Harry Potter and the Loss of Innocence
by Protector of Canon2
Summary: Used to be Harry Potter and the Secrets Revealed. Basically, this is my version of the seventh book. A more complete summary is inside. Rated mainly for violence. Spoilers for books 1 through 6 and AU as of book 7. Duh.
1. A Strange Homecoming

POC2: Hermione is my HP muse. I have a different muse for every fandom.

Disclaimer: Do you think I own it? No? Good, you're not a _total_ idiot.

POC2: RANDOMLY, DON'T INSULT THE READER!!

Spoilers: Books 1-6. No duh.

Summary: Harry has turned 17, and he has his battle against Voldemort mainly planned out. But when new information is learned and old secrets are revealed, Harry will have to change his plans drastically, and he may get the chance to do some thing he never thought possible.

POC2: Well, here goes nothing.

* * *

A Strange Homecoming

Harry Potter looked up at Number Four Privet Drive, and sighed. Although he had been looking forward to the presence of his friends, they had decided that the Dursleys would probably not react very well to two unknown wizards turning up along with their nephew, so Ron and Hermione would see him at the wedding. "Just once more,"he reminded himself, "once more, and you can leave forever."With this slightly more cheerful thought in his mind, he shifted his luggage to one hand and knocked.

An enormous, beefy, neck-less man answered the door. "Hello? Oh. It's you."

"It's nice to see you again, too, Uncle Vernon," Harry answered. He was fairly used to being treated like a dead slug by his Aunt's family.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need a place to stay for a few days. Then I'll leave forever. I'll never bother you again."

"No."

"It's just a few days, Vernon, let the boy stay." Harry and his uncle both turned in shock to look at the thin, bony woman who had just spoke.

"But Petunia-"

"Now really Vernon, you heard the boy, he'll be gone in a few days." She ignored her husband, who was still mouthing soundlessly at her, and showed Harry in. "So, how was school?" Seeming not to notice Harry's lack of response, she continued. "Here, I'll help you take your things up to your room. So where are you going when you leave, and how are you getting there?"

"What? Oh, the Weasleys are picking me up for their son's wedding. Don't worry," he continued quickly, "they're going to get me from a nearby park."

"A wedding, oh how wonderful" Harry stared; it was not the response he had expected. "Is this everything?" Harry nodded mutely. As they had been talking they had carried all his stuff into the spare bedroom. "Good. Come downstairs, I have something to show you."

Still in shock, Harry followed his aunt down to the basement, to a small storage cabinet. Inside was a cardboard box with large letters on the side that said LILY. Not understanding why his aunt and uncle would have a box with his mother's name on it, Harry looked at his aunt, who motioned for him to open the box. He did so, and gasped.

It was filled with jewelry, personal letters, a few old school supplies, some baby toys, pictures (the muggle, non-moving, kind as well as the magical, moving kind), yearbooks, and even, down at the bottom, a few dairies. Harry pulled out a particularly beautiful necklace, a gold chain with a small lion charm, also gold, mouth open and roaring, with small ruby eyes, teeth, and claws.

"They were your mother's," said Aunt Petunia sadly, "all of them. I think that necklace was a wedding present to Lily from her in-laws. A Potter family heirloom. She would have wanted you to have it."

Harry just stared. Quite apart from what he had just found out, he was fairly sure it was the first time Aunt Petunia had used his mother's name, or even mentioned his grandparents. What was going on?

"Here, let me help you take that to your room."

"Oh, thanks." They walked up in silence and put the memoirs in Harry's room.

"I'll leave you to look at these," Aunt Petunia said and made to leave. Suddenly, she turned around. "Harry? You will visit sometimes, won't you? After you leave? At least think about it, please?"

Harry wondered why he would return to the place where he had known so much sorrow, but he somehow found himself agreeing. As soon as his aunt was gone, he lay down on his bed and tried to make sense of things. What was going on with his aunt? Why was she so nice all of a sudden? Why did his aunt and uncle have a box of his mother's things in the first place? What was the meaning of the necklace?

Unable to sleep with these thoughts running through his head, he stood up to look at the new discovery. He picked up one of the documents on top and unrolled it. He sat for a few minutes, simply staring at what he had found.

The parchment, which Harry had originally thought was a letter, was actually a beautiful family tree, an actual picture of a tree with names on the branches and pictures smiling at him from above each name.

But what shocked Harry most was not the modern picture of himself grinning slightly and waving, it was not the tiny, perfect, fruit surrounding each name, it was not even the picture of Albus Dumbledore marked as the first cousin of one of his direct ancestors.

What shocked Harry was the name at the top of the tree, with a line leading straight down to his own name. It was a name he recognized and a picture he had seen often.

The name was Godric Gryffindor.

* * *

W: I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!! I KNEW THAT WAS HIS ANCESTOR!!!!!!!! Even though you are writing this fic, I feel like your psychic!

POC2: Good for you. Wow, that was a long one. So we all knew the first surprise, but Harry didn't.

R: It was kind of lame.

POC2: Don't worry, I'm just getting started.

R: That's what I was afraid of.

POC2: Shut up.

H: But what's going on with his aunt? And when do _I_ come in?

POC2: The answer to both questions, dear muse, is next chapter.

W: I'm wondering the same thing………

POC2: All will be explained in time. Oh, I realize that at this point it is traditional to put in a plea for reviews, so… ahem. Please review? (puppy eyes) please?? Oh, and I'd say no flames but, umm…

R: Flames make me laugh. GO FLAMES!! (cackle)

POC2: Our school basketball team is the flames…. Err, see what I mean?

M: Meow.

POC2: Midnight says, 'until next time, goodbye.'

Next: What _is _going on with Aunt Petunia?


	2. Lost Lilies

Disclaimer: POC2 owns nothing. Yet.

POC2: Do I want to know what you're up to? Don't answer that. This chapter was six pages when I wrote it down on paper, (five pages of story on Microsoft Word) and it's almost all Aunt Petunia talking. I hope it pleases you. By the way I'm spelling-impaired, but spell-check and a beta help with that.

Weird: Thank you, thank you.

POC2: Spell-check is a gift from-

R: YOU'RE RAMBLING AGAIN!

POC2: *ignoring her* On to the story!

* * *

Lost Lilies

For a few seconds, Harry could only stare at the parchment in his hands as this revelation blew all other thoughts from his mind. Eventually he dropped off to sleep, but even when he awoke he found it difficult to think of anything besides the family tree. It was not until he walked into the kitchen the next morning and saw his Aunt that he remembered her odd kindness the day before.

"Hello, Harry, would you like some eggs?" she asked him as he entered.

As the events of the previous day came rushing back, Harry became overcome with confusion and had to ask, "Aunt Petunia, what is going on?"

"Sorry?"

"Look, you've never been this, well, civil to me before. You hated my parents, you hate magic, you hate me! Now, suddenly, it's like you're trying to be the model foster mother. What happened since last summer?"

Aunt Petunia's smile faded, and her face took on a look of deep sadness and regret as she beckoned Harry to sit in a chair. "Dumbledore died."

"Excuse me?" Whatever answer Harry had been expecting, this was not it. "Since when do you care?"

Aunt Petunia sighed at sat down at the table. "Sit down," she said, and then she started her story.

"Harry, I know I have never really been all that I should have been to you, but you must understand why before you judge me. Growing up, Lily and I were very close. We were twins, and we did almost everything together.

"When she got the letter, but I did not, it was disappointing. It also marked the first time that we were apart from each other for so long. However, we were determined not to let the distance tear us apart.

"We wrote letters almost every day, and we both knew all about each other's lives. I heard so much about her friends, enemies, and housemates that I often felt like I knew them personally, and when either of us had trouble the first one we would go to would be our sister. She sometimes showed us magic, and I soon began to think that my twin sister, our amazing witch, could do anything.

"It was that belief that would eventually tear us apart.

"Some families drift apart as time passes, but we just grew closer and closer as together we withstood the test of time. Lily married James Potter when they were both 18-years-old, and the family loved him as much as Lily did. We also met a number of other wizards and witches at the wedding, most notably Albus Dumbledore.

"From the minute I met Dumbledore I knew that he was something special. The way that he just radiated power, and that he seemed to know everything, and it drew me to him so that even when I grew to hate the wizarding world, I still admired him.

"And then, less than three months after the wedding, mother grew ill. Terribly ill. The doctors told us that she'd be dead in a week, but I never gave up hope. After all, we had Lily, and I knew that Lily could save mother.

"If only I hadn't been so foolish."

* * *

_Lily Potter smiled as she put the finishing touches on a letter to Peter Pettigrew. As she called over her owl, she heard her husband's voice from upstairs._

_"Lily, the fellytone's ringing!"_

_Lily laughed as she stood up. "James, it's a telephone, and you know it. Now stop making fun of Peter's mispronunciation."_

_"Yes, Mommy."_

_"James!"_

_A laugh from upstairs. "Alright Lils. Why do we even have that muggle toy, anyway?"_

_"Because Petunia and I like to hear each other's voices. Now didn't you say that it was ringing?"_

_"Huh? Oh, right." James smiled sheepishly._

_Rolling her eyes at his antics, Lily picked up the telephone and began talking to her sister._

_"Hello 'Tunia."_

_"Lily!" Immediately Lily could tell that something was wrong. Her sister sounded worried, and Petunia was never worried._

_"Petunia, what-"_

_"Mother's sick, Lily. Very sick. The doctors say she won't last the week. On top of that, father's not eating, and he probably won't outlive Mother very long."_

_Lily paled. "Alright, I'll be right there. Can I apparate over to your house?"_

_"Yeah." They both quickly said goodbye, and then Lily put down the phone and turned to her anxious husband._

_"Mother's sick. I'm going to see her."_

_"Fine. Do you want me to come?"_

_"No, this is something I would prefer to do alone."_

_"Alright." James gave a nod, which Lily returned, and then she twirled, and was gone._

_

* * *

_

_"Lily!"_

_"'Tunia, how is she?"_

_"Not well. Can you help her?"_

_"Help? 'Tunia, I'm no healer! I wouldn't know what to do! Besides, magic on a muggle?! Petunia, that's against the law!"_

_"To hell with the law! This is my mother we're talking about!"_

_"Petunia!" Lily looked in shock at her sister. Petunia never swore._

_"I don't care! You're a witch! You can fix her! You can do anything!"_

_"I can't bring back the dead!"_

_"She's not dead yet!"_

_"Petunia," Lily said gently, trying to calm down her furious twin, "everyone dies eventually."_

_"Not Mother. Not yet. You can save her."_

_"'Tunia, I'm sorry, but magic has limits."_

_"So if you can't help her, bring her to someone who can! Take her to St. Mumbo's, or whatever it's called."_

_"St. Mungo's! They'll never take her! They can't help her, anyways. Besides, do you have any clue how I'd look-"_

_"So your image means more to you than your mother's life."_

_"Petunia, that's not what I said!"_

_"But it's what you meant. Look, if it's so hard to use magic on Mum, why don't you have your husband do it?"_

_"Petunia, it's illegal! What don't you understand-"_

_"When has that ever stopped him before?" A shocked silence fell between the two. Lily could only stare at her sister who was shaking with fury. "Out. Get out."_

_"Petunia, please…."_

_"Get out of my house. I never want to see you again. Go."_

* * *

"I never did see her again.

"I soon met Vernon, a man who tolerated nothing that was not 'normal,' and married him. I stopped answering her calls, and I threw her letters away unopened, but she never stopped trying.

"Then, one day, not long after you were born, it all stopped. I assumed she had just given up, but if I had read her last letter I would have known that- that _he_ was after them, and that she didn't want _him_ to find me. Even after everything, she was trying to protect me….

"And then she died, and we never had a chance to reconcile.

"But starting two years ago, with the dementors, and then that letter from Dumbledore, it awoke something within me. You may not have noticed it, but something changed."

"What did it mean?" Aunt Petunia looked up, startled, as though she had forgotten that Harry was there.

"The letter? 'Remember my last.' Well, Dumbledore told me that my sister had done so much to protect me; the least I could do was give her son a home, and probably save his life.

"And then last year, Sirius Black…. I-I never thought Sirius could die. But it was Dumbledore's death that really showed me how wrong I was. Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of all time. If _he_ can die, then there is no way to magically cheat death. I now know how foolish I was, and I hope you can find it in you to forgive me."

* * *

POC2: All the Aunt Petunia loose ends have been tied up, (I think) so we probably won't see here again, except maybe in the last chapter.

Please review, flames will be used to cook Midnight's latest meal which is… A PURPLE PYGMY PUFF!?! (gulp) If I don't update for a while it's because Weird killed me.

W: HEY THAT'S MY SISTER YOU'RE EATING!!!!!! (kicks Midnight) BAD CAT!!!!!!

H: Excuse me? You said I'd be in this chapter.

POC2: (backing away slooowly) Heh, heh, slight miscalculation. You'll probably be in the fifth chapter, defiantly the sixth.

H: FIFTH OR SIXTH!?

POC2: Oh no! Now my muse is trying to kill me, too!! Eeep! Run away! (runs away)

H&W: (are trying to kill POC2)

R: (is rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically.)

M: (is sitting there looking innocent)

W: (lets Hermione finish the job) Well, that was interesting. But seriously, POC2, _twins_? She's supposed to be older than Lily! But I like this interpretation. And SIRIUS IS NOT DEAD!!!!! On that lovely note, let's finish this up! Bye-bye now!

POC2: (returns from dead to answer Weird) Umm…. She's the older twin?

Next: Things are about to get even stranger as some unusual letters arrive from Hogwarts…


	3. Letters From Hogwarts

R: Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

POC2: Randomly? Randomly! Wake up and do the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I am currently involved in a complicated plot that I will tell you no more about because of plausible deniability. Until I succeed, POC2 owns nothing.

POC2: (gulp) I've got another disclaimer: What ever Randomly's up to, it's not my fault.

H: Despite that fact that you are the same person…..

M: It's better not to ask. Trust me.

H: Did you just speak English?

M: Meow.

* * *

Letters from Hogwarts

All Harry wanted to do was sit and think about what he had just heard, but as soon as he reached his room, he noticed an unfamiliar owl perched on his bed. Groaning, he picked it up, and nearly dropped it in shock when he saw what it was.

"A letter from Hogwarts?" thought Harry. "Now? But summer just started."

Wary of some kind of trick, Harry opened the letter and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_In light of recent events, we realize that some students may consider not returning to Hogwarts this year. While we urge you to reconsider if this is what you had been planning, we understand that, ultimately the decision belongs to you and your parents or legal guardians. However, we have taken a number of steps to ensure that you are still able to complete your education._

_You have received this letter either because you have attended Hogwarts within the past three years or because you are a prospective student. On July 14__th__ at 1:00 pm, we ask that you, as well as your parent(s) or legal guardian(s) if you are underage, and any siblings you may have if they wish to attend, come to Hogwarts for an important meeting that will tell you more about the steps we have taken. We strongly advise that you attend._

_We will be using floo powder; for one day only, the houses of all Hogwarts students will be connected to the floo network, even muggle houses. There will be a large number of Aurors present at this meeting, and we will be taking every possible precaution to ensure your safety and the safety of your family. Please let us know whether you will be coming and who you will be bringing with you so that we can arrange to have your house added to the floo network. For safety reasons, no one who does not inform us beforehand will be allowed into the school. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall, _

_Headmistress _

Frowning, Harry picked up the now-empty envelope, only to realize that it was _not_ empty. Instead, there was another letter inside. Harry noticed that while this letter was on the same type of parchment, the writing seemed to be somehow less formal.

_Dear Harry,_

_There are some things that I would like to discuss with you before the general meeting on the 14__th__. I am not sure how long it will take, so I would like to pick you up at 10:00 that morning. Please owl me back as soon as possible. We will use floo powder to travel. At the end of the general meeting, you can go to the Weasley's house, where you will be able to stay until after the wedding. If you have any objection to this, let me know in your response owl. If not, have your luggage ready when I come. _

_Sincerely,_

_Professor McGonagall_

_P.S. It's Order business._

Harry thought for a minute. There was a possibility that it was a trap, but Harry didn't think so. He would just have to be careful when the Professor came.

Picking up his quill and ink, he quickly wrote his answer.

_Dear Professor,_

_I don't have any problem with going to the Weasley's until the wedding. I'll see you July 14__th__ at 10:00._

_Harry._

His head still spinning slightly, Harry sat down on his bed and tried to sort out everything that had happened over the past few days.

* * *

Luckily, the next few weeks were much less exciting than the beginning of the summer, and Aunt Petunia was even able to ensure that Dudley and Uncle Vernon were out of the house at when Professor McGonagall was scheduled to arrive.

By the time 9:50 rolled around, Harry was sitting in front of the fireplace with all of his worldly possessions, excluding the money in his Gringotts vault, piled around his feet. Not eager for a repetition of the disaster that had occurred when the Weasleys had tried to floo into his house in his fourth year, Harry had carefully removed the planks across the fireplace and lit a small fire. Aunt Petunia would put out the fire and replace the planks when he was gone.

At exactly 10:00 am, Professor McGonagall's spinning form appeared in the fireplace. She stepped out and turned to Harry, all business.

"Alright, if you will use this," she held out some floo powder, "to go to Hogwarts, I will drop off your luggage and follow."

Harry hesitated for just a moment. "What were me and Professor Dumbledore doing together last year?"

That earned him an odd look. "You never told me."

"Exactly." With a slight smile, Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder, shouted, "Hogwarts," and stepped into the fire.

* * *

When Harry emerged from the fireplace, he found himself in the office that had been home to Dumbledore for so many years. Looking around, he noticed that Professor McGonagall had made few changes and had not removed what had been Fawkes' perch. He smiled slightly at all the memories.

Suddenly, Harry heard a voice that he had never expected to hear again. "Hello, Harry."

Harry turned around to face the smiling picture of Albus Dumbledore perched on the wall.

* * *

POC2: If you would like to know where I come up with my crazy ideas, drop me a review (hint hint) and I'd be happy to tell you. Oh, and Weird asked about the last year thing, so…. After Dumbledore dies, McGonagall asks Harry what they were doing that night. He doesn't tell her. That's it. He's just making sure it's really her, the rational being that a Death Eater would have gotten flustered or tried to make something up.

G: Kl,ooooooooooooooooooook

POC2: Oh, hi Gabi. I just let my 8-month-old cousin type a little. Inspiring, ain't it?

R: You're a strange one.

POC2: That is your influence.

R: I didn't say it's a bad thing.

POC2: Well, that's all for now. Please review and I hope to see you soon.

Next: Harry plans for the coming war.


	4. War Council

POC2: Well, I finally made my decision. I _will_ continue this, even though it's officially AU. I wrote out the entire story line before hand, so I don't have to worry about my story being influenced by the canon book seven; and, frankly, there were certain parts of Book Seven that I was _not_ impressed with. I hope I can do better.

R: Yeah, _you're_ going to write _Harry Potter_ better than _J. K. Rowling_.

H: If you don't stop talking I'm going to hex you.

W: _How_??? You're a _fictional_ _character_!

H: What happens up here only exists in POC2's imagination. I can do whatever I am canonically capable of.

POC2: Can we _please_ not get into this? We're going to give people major headaches.

Disclaimer: A few more weeks of blackmail, and they will be mine! Until then, POC2 owns nothing that you recognize.

POC2: I don't even _want_ to know you're up to.

Additional disclaimer: Just because I said there are some things I dislike about the seventh book does not mean I do not respect Ms. Rowling. Even the best authors can make mistakes.

* * *

War Council

For a few seconds, Harry could only stare at the picture on the wall.

"P-Professor?"

"Hello, Harry."

"But, but aren't you-"

"Dead?" Harry nodded mutely. "Yes Harry, but I'll never truly be gone as long as there are those here who are loyal to me; you know that. I'll always be here to give advice; I'm a part of these very walls."

"It's comforting, isn't it?" Harry spun around and saw Professor McGonagall standing next to the fireplace, a small smile gracing her lips.

"I… yeah."

"I have something important to say to you." Harry was surprised at the seriousness in Dumbledore's voice.

"I'm listening."

"Harry, I don't want you to dwell on my death. I knew it was coming sooner or later, and it's not really so bad. I was nearly 160 years old Harry, that's enough for anybody. I won't say that I wanted death, but I was ready for it. Don't mourn for me to long. Promise me, Harry."

"I promise," answered Harry, feeling oddly better.

"Oh, and Harry?" There was something in Dumbledore's eyes that Harry couldn't quite place. "Don't become obsessed with revenge. At least, not against the wrong person."

"Huh?" Dumbledore's only answer was a mysterious smile.

"Actually," said McGonagall after a minute or so of silence, "That's not the only reason I asked you here. We need to discuss the next several months. I assume you will not be returning to Hogwarts this year?"

"No, and neither will Ron and Hermione."

"That's understandable. The general meeting later today will give you information on what you can do about completing your education, so we will not discuss that for now. What we will discuss is the task that you are setting out to complete. I don't know what it is," she hastened to add at the expression on Harry's face, "but Albus has told me that he doesn't want you trying to complete it alone."

"But I won't be alone," protested Harry, "Ron and Hermione will be with me."

"I realize that, but I am afraid that the job may be too large for three people."

Harry ignored an almost instinctive surge of resentment and turned to Dumbledore. "So who do you suggest?"

"Do you remember the group that you formed to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts when Dolores Umbridge would not teach you?"

"You want me to gather the DA?"

"Any who are willing and who you feel you can trust. Even those that you do not want with you can still be of use in the months ahead.

"Your task is very important, Harry. If you fail, the Order will fight as long and as hard as they can, but they will eventually be overcome. If you succeed, however, the war will be over."

"Alright, we'll give it a try."

"Right." McGonagall was now all business. "I have asked the Weasleys and Miss Granger to be here at noon, so you can discuss matters with them when they arrive. Until then, we have some planning to do."

For the next few hours they discussed logistics and battle plans, worked out various modes of communication, and agreed upon levels of secrecy. Finally, at 12:00, Harry began to head downstairs.

* * *

As soon as he reached the great hall, Harry heard a voice calling out his name. Turning, he saw Hermione running toward him. "Harry! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Hermione."

Hermione was suddenly shoved aside by what looked for a moment like a red-headed blur. "Wow, Harry, such a pleasant surprise!"

"It's been so long since we last saw you!"

"Yeah, almost an entire month!"

"You've grown so tall!"

"And so handsome!"

"Our little boy is growing up!"

"Hello Fred, George." The twins bowed theatrically when Harry said their names.

"Honestly boys, is everything a joke to you?"

"Yup!"

"That was rhetorical. But it _is_ good to see you Harry."

"'Mione, Fred and George have a point. You _did_ see him less than a month ago," Ron told her as he sauntered over to the rapidly growing group.

"Nice to see you, too, Ron."

"Hey, Harry." It was Ginny, who seemed to have come in behind Ron. She gave Harry a small smile, which he cautiously returned.

"Where are-" he began.

"Mum and Bill are outside with Hagrid," began Fred.

"Dad didn't come; he's at work," George continued.

"Fleur's back at home with a few of her family members who have already come in."

"Charlie's abroad doing work for the Order."

"And we're here!"

"McGonagall said you wanted to talk to the five of us."

"What's that about?"

Harry took a deep breath and turned to the others. "I'm re-forming the DA."

"Why?"

"We started the DA to fight Voldemort, and that's what we're going to do."

"Can we trust them all?" Ron asked.

"We'll have to," Harry replied grimly. "If we're not willing to trust one another, then Voldemort wins. They won't be doing _our_ job, but they'll have pretty important roles."

"Am I the only one who has no idea what's going on?"

Fred smiled. "It's okay Sis, we're a bit baffled as well."

Harry ignored him. "I want to have a meeting after whatever it is that McGonagall has planned. I'll explain everything then. That's part of why I wanted you here. Once people start arriving, make sure everyone in the DA knows that we're meeting in the Room of Requirement."

"Er, Harry?" It was Hermione. "What about Cho Change and her friend?"

"Tell Cho; not the snitch. We need people who will be able to trust each other. Now, here's what I need from each of you…"

* * *

POC2: So, this clears up a few of the issues that I have. First, I didn't feel that enough was done with Dumbledore's portrait. Come on, just because he's _dead_ doesn't mean that he's _gone_. Second, I didn't feel that enough was done with the DA. Thus, I'm going to give them a bigger role.

H: You finally brought me in!

POC2: Oh give me a break! It's only chapter 4!

Remember to review, and please make sure you tell me how well I portrayed each character.

By the way, do the books ever mention which twin is older?

Oh, and I'm assuming that the school year ends mid-to late-June. If I'm wrong, sorry.

Next: We find out what will be happening at Hogwarts this year.


	5. The Fortress at Hogwarts Castle

Disclaimer: I did it! They're mine! All mine! I own everything!

Big, scary lawyers capable of suing you for more money then you will ever have in you life: Wanna bet?

POC2: Eeep! Why are you after me? Whatever Randomly did, it wasn't my fault!

R: Actually, I did it all in your name.

POC2: What? No, it wasn't my fault! I didn't do it! I'm innocent!

H: Wait, if Randomly did something, doesn't it mean that Protector of Canon2 was involved since they're the _same person_?

M: All you going to do if you try to think like that is give yourself a headache.

H: You did it again! You're talking!

M: Meow.

H: Argghhh!

W: 'Mione's going insane!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!! (grins evilly) Yet another soul under the power of the two…

H: Only Ron is allowed to call me 'Mione. If you do it again you're going to get hexed.

R: Yeah, be quiet, Weird. (Watches the big, scary lawyers drag POC2 off to who-knows-where) Well, that could have gone worse.

BSLCOSYFMMTYWEHIYL(a.k.a., the lawyers): We're going to have to take you as well.

R: Darn it, I spoke too soon.

* * *

The Fortress at Hogwarts Castle

They discussed plans for the DA until 12:30, at which point the conversation began to drift to other topics. One question on everybody's mind was the purpose of the meeting that McGonagall had called.

Ron suggested that it was simply an excuse to gather all of the DA to the same place, but Hermione quickly shot down that idea.

("First of all, there are much easier ways to contact them. Second Professor McGonagall told Harry he would hear something important at the meeting, so there must _be_ a meeting. Third, don't you think Professor McGonagall would have told us if that were true?

"Besides, she can't afford to do something like that, she needs people to trust her. No, I think the meeting will be about whether or not Hogwarts will reopen this year."

"So then why would she ask people to come if they wouldn't be at Hogwarts anyways?"

"I don't _know_ Ronald, maybe we should _wait and see_.")

Finally, 1:00 drew near and the other students began to arrive with their families.

Harry, Hermione, and the four Weasleys quickly split up to find all the former members of the DA and inform them about the planned gathering.

Though most had not expected to be called upon again, they agreed to attend and to help ensure that everyone who had been a part of the DA received the message.

All in all, Harry was expecting a good number of people to attend, though he wondered how many would want to stay once he told them what he intended for their part to be in the war against Voldemort.

* * *

"If I could have everyone's attention, please."

Most of the students who had been invited were seated in the Great Hall with their families. The tables had been removed to fit all the extra chairs, but Harry was still amazed that everybody fit; though he noticed that a large number of students had not turned up.

He also noticed that the majority of the missing students were from Slytherin.

All conversation quickly died down as Professor McGonagall stood to speak. "Thank you.

"I have asked all of you to be here today to discuss your continued education during the upcoming war." Whispers filled the room at these words, but they were quickly silenced as McGonagall began to speak once more.

"It would be useless to pretend that there will be no war; the Death Eaters are growing more powerful, and if we want our way of life to endure we will have to fight for it.

"I will not lie to you; Hogwarts is likely to be a target for our enemies. However, we will not go down without a fight.

"When Hogwarts was built, the Founders knew that there would be an attack if the Muggles of the time ever discovered its location. This school was built as a fortress, and it can be one once again.

"When necessary, the school will defend itself against invaders. There are a number of rooms that, when locked, cannot be found from outside, and the students will be taught the locations of these rooms as well as the best and fastest ways to reach each one. We can survive a siege for as long as we need to, because everything that we may need can be found or created at Hogwarts. In fact, this will probably be one of the safest places to be for the duration of the war.

"Despite this, we understand that some of you will wish to be with your families for the duration of the war and will therefore not be attending school. However, we do not want this to mean that you will be unable to continue your education. Therefore, once the war is over we will be allowing students to return to Hogwarts for whatever years they have not already passed.

"Now we turn to the subject of students that have graduated within the past few years.

"You will be given the chance to return to Hogwarts to learn, teach, and protect the school. We will be opening a number of self defense classes that will be more interactive than your other studies. In these you will learn new defensive spells that would not be covered in the normal curriculum, and students of all ages will be able to teach and to practice with each other.

"Then, in the event that Hogwarts is attacked, you will be expected to fight alongside the teachers against the invading force.

"If at any time, anyone-- graduate, parent, or student-- feels that their safety has been compromised, the doors of Hogwarts will always be open to any willing to fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Your school supplies list will arrive within the next week, and we would like your return owls by mid-August. Start of term will be the last day of August; if you have any questions, please ask them now."

* * *

POC2: And thus, I open up a bigger role for Hogwarts and everybody there. And I make it easier to steal students from the school to use as soldiers against the Death Eaters. Score!

All kidding aside, one of my biggest complaints with the book was the number of potential plotlines brought up in the first six books that were not followed up. I'm going to give Ms. Rowling the benefit of the doubt and say that she probably just wanted to keep the book from getting longer than it already was.

R: Of course, the cynical assumption would be that she was so rich that she didn't care about all those plotlines….

W: SHUT UP ABOUT MY HERO, RANDOMLY!!!!

R: Rowling is your hero?

POC2: Anyways, most of the plotlines will figure into this story one way or another.

H: I get to finish my education! Yay!

POC2: If you live.

H: WHAT?!

POC2: That didn't come out right. What I meant to say was that any characters still alive at the end of the story will be able to finish their educations.

H: Are you planning to kill me off?

Automated voice recording of POC2: *beep* No comments will be made regarding which characters will still be alive by the end of the story. *beep*

Next: The story begins to pick up pace, as the DA returns.


	6. Dumbledore's Army Returns

POC2: Well, we've made it to the Weasley's house, and the war is going to have to start pretty soon. But before that, howsabout I give you a nice, fluffy transition chapter. Let's take a look at the characters just hanging out. A series of conversation, all of which, except for the last one, begin with the word "no."

R: And this advances the plot… How?

W: Answer: It doesn't.

POC2: It doesn't have to. It's character development. Besides, you can't just spend the story jumping from crisis to crisis.

W: You can't? …just kidding.

H: She's right, you have to give us a chance to unwind and make sure that the readers see us as people.

W: ...and not just as weirdoes who are obsessed with fighting the Dark Side.

R: Yeah, yeah. I'll just stick to writing the parodies, okay?

H: Fine by me.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then-

Automated voice recording of POC2: (beep) No comments shall be made that may reveal any possible plotlines to observant readers. (beep)

R: YOU'RE CENSORING MY DISCLAIMERS!?

POC2: Look, you can't say what I would do if I owned Harry Potter; readers might assume that I'll do those things in this fic!

R: Oh yeah? Well, if I can't do disclaimers the way I want, then I quit!

POC2: You WHAT?!

W: You can't quit, you're the _same person._

R: I can, and I am. I'm not doing any more disclaimers!

POC2: …This won't last.

H: Weird's right. How can they argue if they're the _same person_?!

M: You really need to stop concentrating on that so much. It means nothing up here; this is the realm of the imagination.

H: Okay, can we answer this once and for all? Have you always been able to speak English, or have I suddenly developed the ability to understand Cat?

M: Meow

H: (falls to her knees and begins to sob.)

* * *

Dress Robes and Disagreements

"No!"

"Mum-"

"Absolutely not! I will not allow it! Your father and four of your brothers are in the order; Percy's still not speaking to us; you two are going to stay at Hogwarts where you are safe!"

"Mum, just hear me out. My best friend is _Harry Potter_. You know, the one that You-Know-Who has been breaking into Hogwarts trying to kill since we were eleven? And that's when Dumbledore was still there. We can put safety measures on Godric's Hollow that we couldn't dream of having at Hogwarts, and joining Harry will help defeat You-Know-Who faster.

"Going with Harry may not make _me_ safer, but it may make everyone _else_ safer.

"Besides, I'm of age. Are you sure you can stop me?"

"Fine, but Ginny's only sixteen. I want to make sure that _someone_ in this family-"

"You said it yourself Mum: my entire family is fighting the Death Eaters. How can you expect me to sit safely in school when I could be helping? What if someone is hurt because I'm not there?"

"Alright, go, and do the best that you can. Just be careful."

* * *

"No."

"Oh, come on, Ronald."

"You cannot expect me to wear this." Ron was standing in the center of the room in a set of deep maroon dress robes.

Ginny giggled. "Oh come on, they're better than what you wore to the Yule Ball." Ron's glare only caused her to giggle louder. "Actually, they don't look all that horrible on you."

"But they're _maroon_. I _hate_ maroon!"

Hermione groaned. "Oh, grow up, Ronald. It's Bill's wedding, not yours. Do you really want to throw a fit and ruin it for him? Besides, Ginny's right. You look nice."

Ron hesitated. "You really think so?"

"Yes Ron, I do."

"Well," Ron muttered, his face slightly pink, "I guess I can stand them, but only for Bill."

Harry caught Ginny's eye and grinned. "Only for Bill. Of course."

"Oh, shut up." Ron turned to Neville and Luna, who weren't even trying to hide their amusement. "Do you two have dress robes?"

Luna smiled. "You really don't want to talk about this, do you? As a matter of fact, we were planning on attending the wedding before the DA meeting."

"Oh. Harry? What about you?"

"Your mum told me that she'd adjust the ones I wore to the Yule Ball."

"Ah, yes," Fred said from the couch that he was sprawled out on, "that lovely green treasure."

"Really brings out the color of your eyes," George added.

"Makes them stand out like a pair of emeralds."

"Or like a pair of weeds underneath that mop you call hair."

Luna looked up. "Actually Harry, wearing robes the color of your eyes is a very good idea. It attracts Twinkletellers."

"What are Twinkletellers?"

"They're very much like fairies, except they're so small that they cannot be seen, and they bring good luck."

"Luna, they don't-"

"Just leave it, 'Mione."

Ron was saved from Hermione's wrath by a loud shriek. Fred and George looked at each other and, with a pair of small _*pop*s_, they were gone.

Barely ten seconds later, Bill came barreling down the stairs looking like he was going to kill someone.

It was easy to tell why; the entire left side of his body, from the tip of his hair all the way down to his toes, was in various shades of blue and purple, while his right side was a mirror image in reds and oranges. Even his robes had changed color. Fleur was standing in the doorway behind him staring at her hands in mortification. Her transformation was the opposite: blues and purples on the right and reds and oranges on the left.

"_Where are they?_" Bill growled, and Harry would not have been surprised to see flames shooting out of his mouth.

"They just Disapparated, probably to the joke shop."

Even the _*pop*_ of Bill's Apparation sounded furious.

Fleur gave a small sob and ran upstairs, leaving the six members of the DA sitting in awkward silence.

Finally, Neville spoke up. "On the bright side, at least they did it _now_ rather than closer to the wedding."

"This is Fred and George we're talking about, remember? If they did _this_ now, that means they'll do something worse later on."

"Oh dear."

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Fleur's mother was a tall, willowy blond with a very commanding voice. "Virginia, you're moving too fast. Here, watch: step, rest, step, rest. Practice that. Now, William and Charles…"

As she walked off to instruct Bill and Charlie, Ginny turned to Harry with a look of pure fury. "If she calls me 'Virginia' one more time, I'm going to hex her. _Why_ is she in charge of the ceremony?"

"Because your mum is doing the food. Quite frankly, I'd rather have it like this than the other way around.

Ginny scowled. "That's because you're not _in_ the ceremony."

"Probably. What _I_ want to know is why she doesn't have an accent."

"She's _far_ too perfect to have an accent. Probably speaks fifty bloody languages."

"Only ten, Virginia. Unfortunately, Teenager is apparently not one of them. Have you practiced walking yet?"

Harry left rather quickly at that point.

* * *

"No, Ronald."

"But, Hermione-"

"I said no. you cannot give Fleur's mother a Puking Pastil before the ceremony tomorrow, no matter how irritating she is."

Harry chuckled and kept walking.

* * *

"Yo, Bill! There's someone at the door!"

"Merlin's beard, Charlie, I'm coming!" Bill hurried down to the front door, fastening the claps on his white robes as he came. "Isn't it a bit early for the guests to be arriving?"

Charlie shrugged and pulled the door open- and froze.

"Percy?"

* * *

POC2: My first cliffhanger! It isn't much of one, but…

H: So it wasn't pure fluff after all.

W: Ok, so the plot advanced one centimeter.

POC2:(shrugs) I'm not perfect.

R: Maroon dress robes?

POC2: It was your idea.

R: And I must say, you did a very good job with it. But, Twinkletellers?

POC2: You got to admit, it was a Luna thing to say. (Laughs) You think by now they'd learn not to ask.

W: Ummm… this is _Harry Potter _we're talking about! He'll _never_ learn not to ask!

POC2: You've got a point there.

W: Also, it's Ginerva, not Virginia.

POC2: It is? Well, I kinda liked the idea that Mrs. Delacour decided to call everyone by their full names- and got Ginny's wrong.

Next: What does Percy want? And it's wedding time!


	7. Dress Robes and Disagreements

POC2: Hey Randomly, it's disclaimer time!

R: No.

POC2: _**NO?!**_

R: No. I quit, remember?

POC2: But-

R: You do the disclaimer.

POC2: I- bu- fine.

Disclaimer: Let's look at this logically. If I owned Harry Potter, would you be reading this online? Of course not. This would be the official seventh book that you bought back in July, and you might be reading that online.

R: See, you did fine.

POC2: But you'll do next chapter's, right?

R: Nope. I quit. I'm done.

H: I don't think she's going to change her mind.

POC2: Fine, then you do the next disclaimer.

H: Why me?

POC2: Because I said so. Anyhoo, the wedding is partially my aunt and uncle's Orthodox Jewish wedding in Israel three or four years ago, since that's the only wedding I've been to that I can remember, but it's mostly my imagination. Oh, and the "death and beyond" line was inspired by the line in West Side Story (also not mine though I was in a performance of it five or so years ago) "even death won't part us now."

* * *

A Weasley Gained, A Weasley Lost

Percy Weasley stood outside the door, smiling nervously. "Am I too early?"

"No, of course not, we just weren't… we weren't sure you'd come."

Percy looked down. "To be honest, neither was I."

"Well, you're here now."

"I just- if I missed this- I mean-" He took a deep breath and looked his brother in the eyes. "I guess I figured this fight wasn't worth missing your wedding."

Molly rushed into the room. "William Arthur Weasley, if you are standing around chatting, then you'd better be-" She froze, staring at the son with whom she had not had a civil conversation in over two years.

"Hi, Mum."

"Percy!" Within moments she had flung her arms around her third son and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh Percy, we were starting to think… If something we said made you feel like you couldn't come home…"

"Mum, we both made mistakes, and I really don't want to start fighting again-- especially not today. Can we just… move on?"

"Of course we can. Come, let's find Mrs. Delacour. If we hurry, there should still be enough time to fit you into the ceremony."

* * *

A few hours later, Harry was in the Weasley's spacious backyard near a raised platform next to Neville and several other Hogwarts students. Bill stood in the center of the platform underneath a canopy woven of pure white blossoms. Next to him was a tall, black-robed wizard with graying hair and a short beard. To the left of the platform were his five brothers; the deep maroon robes that they wore looked quite stunning no matter what Ron said. Mr. Weasley stood behind them and Mr. Delacour stood on the other side of the platform.

A beautiful, unearthly tune began to flow from an unseen orchestra, and the witches, both those in the wedding party and the guests, came from the room where they had been gathered to join the wizards.

When they had settled, the music began to build. Ginny Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour twirled in, barefoot and wearing flowing robes charmed to scatter flower petals with every step.

Mrs. Delacour's training had paid off- Ginny's slow, deliberate dance steps took Harry's breath away.

When they reached the platform they split up; Ginny glided over to the other Weasleys while Gabrielle joined her parents. Apparently the mothers of the bride and groom had taken their places while Harry's eyes had been glued to Ginny. The flower girls took their places, and all was still.

Then the music reached a crescendo, and the gates opened to reveal the bride.

Her robes were of pure white and very simple, and the goblin-made tiara on her head had infused her with a faint glow that was amplified by her natural aura. It was one of the most beautiful things Harry had ever seen.

Fleur began to glide-- for it could not be described as walking-- over the path of flowers. When she reached Bill she slowly circled him seven times as the bearded wizard raised his wand high above their heads.

"_Seven cycles keep them close, when they laugh or cry."_

Each time Fleur completed a circle, a ring of light emerged from his wand and surrounded the bride and groom.

"_Seven cycles bind their love, never let it die."_

The final circle complete, Fleur turned to Bill and took his hands in her own.

"_Cycles of magic in them both, keep them close forever."_

The rings of light closed inward, glowing so brightly that Harry could not bear to look at them.

"_Cycles of magic, death and beyond, may you be separate, never."_

The light divided itself into two rings of gold which shrank and slid onto Bill and Fleur's fingers. They leaned together, their lips met--

And the screams began.

The sky itself seemed to darken as hooded figures popped in and began wildly firing curses in every direction.

Several guests collapsed in pain; this one clutching an arm, that one missing an eye.

A tall wizard spun around-

And then he collapsed, and Hermione's voice could be heard among the screaming: "They've set up a ward! We can't escape!"

The defenders were gathering themselves slowly-

Except for two. A pair of red-headed blurs had begun moving as soon as the figures had appeared and had each taken out several enemies by the time everyone else realized what was happening.

Even as he dove to the ground to escape a stray curse, Harry's mind slowly began to process the fact that the wedding was under attack.

Harry rolled out of the way of a hex which collided wit ha chair behind him, shattering it and sending the pieces flying in every direction. He then leapt to his feet, pointed his wand at the nearest skull-mask, and shouted, "_stupefy_!"

Several Death Eaters were being pelted with pieces of rubble, the source of which seemed to be the Instant Allies scattered around the yard. Seamus was throwing Exploding Spheres at the skeletal masks with a great deal of success- apparently the Weasley products would be quite useful.

Yet another Death Eater fell, and Harry felt a surge of hope-

Then one voice was heard above the pandemonium. "_Teshaver gufoe_!"

Harry could do nothing but watch in horror as the beam of red light flew straight at Bill-

But it never hit him.

Charlie jumped out of nowhere to land in front of his brother and was hit in the center of the chest. For a few moments his body seemed to glow bright red, and then he began to fall backwards almost gracefully.

The same Death Eater who had fired the curse raised his wand and shouted, "_fineous wardium_," and Voldemort's followers disappeared, the injured dragged along by the uninjured.

All around Harry the shock of the attack was beginning to set in, while on the platform at the front of the field, Charlie Weasley lay dying in his brother's arms.

"Charlie, you idiot," Bill whispered as he held his younger brother close, "what were you thinking?"

"I couldn't leave Fleur as a widow on her wedding day, could I?" Charlie's voice was raspy and weak as though the curse had crushed his chest when it hit. "Look, I knew what I was doing.

"Tell Percy- tell him I'm sorry we wasted so much time and-" He was interrupted by a fit of coughing that brought blood to his mouth.

"Don't try to talk, it-"

"Bill." Charlie's voice was fading, and Bill strained to hear his next words. "Will you name your first son after me? I don't want to be forgotten."

"Of course I will, Charlie, We couldn't possibly forget you, no matter what happened."

Charlie Weasley never heard.

* * *

POC2: Well, my first action scene (maybe now you see why I don't do them more often, though maybe I should; I need serious practice) and my first character death. I was going to kill off Percy, thus highlighting the point of "don't waste time fighting, you never know how much time you have," but I think he's going to be useful later on. (Smiles evilly)

For the action scene, I was trying to create a feeling of pandemonium. Did I fail miserably? Did I do too well? Did it work? I can't improve unless you review and tell me.

Oh, and about the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products: I'm going to be making them up as I need them, so just because you didn't see them two chapters ago doesn't mean they don't exist.

Also, consider yourselves fortunate. I was planning on ending this chapter with the screaming (right before the Death Eaters arrived)…

H: But I wouldn't let her. What's "_teshaver gufoe_"?

POC2: It's Hebrew. Literally, it means "let his body be broken." Basically, it caused enough damage that he was dead no matter what anyone did, without killing him outright. In other words, a particularly painful way to kill someone. I wanted to write a death scene, which eliminated the _Avada_ _Kedavra_ (which is also Hebrew. It means "I will destroy as I speak." Random trivia is fun!), so I made something up.

H: Makes sense. Why red?

POC2: I was going to do black, but red opens up some interesting possibilities. Imaginary kosher brownies for whoever guesses what I mean by that remark.

Next: Our heroes deal with the tragedy while the Skifflemont Six (I think I'm going to keep calling them that) prepare to leave. Also, will the loss of one child make Mrs. Weasley reconsider her decision regarding her two youngest?


	8. A Weasley Gained, A Weasley Lost

POC2: Hermione! Disclaimer time!

H: Do I have to?

POC2: Yes.

H: Why?

POC2: Because I said so.

Disclaimer: POC2 doesn't own anything related to Harry Potter, including me.

Thank Heavens.

POC2: HEY!

W: See, Hermione? It's not THAT hard…

* * *

Return to Godric's Hollow

The wedding reception and all the other parties were canceled; it didn't feel right to be celebrating with Charlie's death so fresh in everybody's minds. The Weasleys all seemed to be in shock at the sudden transition from festivity to tragedy. Charlie was buried quietly; Mrs. Weasley was afraid that a large funeral would only serve as another target for the Death Eaters. The plan was to have a memorial when there was less of chance that someone would be killed there.

Fleur had been a godsend. She seemed to be everywhere at once: talking, listening, or simply picking up the slack when odd jobs were left undone, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to take comfort in the fact that, though she had lost a son, she had gained a daughter.

It was nearly a week after the attack when Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville approached Mrs. Weasley.

"I think this is goodbye," Harry told her, "We need to get started; every day we waste increases the chance that there will be another attack before we leave."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Ron and Ginny aren't going."

Ron and Ginny looked furious. "What?!"

"Mum, we already talked about this. You agreed!"

"That was before your brother was killed. I respected your wishes to fight, but I will not allow you to put yourselves in any more danger. I've heard your reasons, and your presence will not mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"How do you know?"

"Do you honestly think that if the war is won it will be because you fought?"

"Mum, look--" Ginny turned to Harry helplessly. "Can I tell her? Please?" Harry nodded. "There are certain… magical items. If we collect them, then You-Know-Who will be vulnerable. The Death Eaters probably don't know that these items exist. It's not like we're planning an attack on the Death Eaters. If everything goes as planned, we may not ever face them."

"I still see no reason for you to be part of this mission. If you won't be facing the Death Eaters, then Harry doesn't need you."

Harry decided that he should speak up before either of the women said something they couldn't take back. "On the night Dumbledore was killed, he and I were searching for one of these items. There were… certain defenses around it, and it would have been impossible to get through them with only one person. Each of the six of us has something unique that only he or she can do. We do need Ron and Ginny."

"No. This is not up for discussion. I WILL NOT ALLOW GINNY AND RON--"

"IT'S NOT A QUESTION OF LETTING US!"

"RONALD WEASLEY, DON'T YOU DARE TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME."

"ENOUGH, MUM!" Ron roared. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone that Harry had rarely ever heard from him. "Harry and Hermione are my best friends; they're not going to go off without me. I am of age, and you cannot force me to stay here, or to go to school. The war is here, and I'm going to fight, and there is _nothing you can do about it_."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be in shock.

"Mum," Ginny said quietly, "We don't want to fight with you, but if you make us, then we will.

"This is important to us. We are going to fight; we have to."

"I just want to keep you safe," her mother whispered.

"No where is safe, Mum; _life_ isn't safe. Even when there isn't a war going on, _life _is dangerous. I could go out on my broom, and fall off, and break my neck. Does that mean I should never fly?

"The only way to truly keep us safe is lock us up and never let us out of the house. You have to let us grow up at some point."

"Not yet, Ginny, you're only sixteen."

"By the time I was _twelve_ I had been possessed and nearly killed by You-Know-Who.

"Ron and I _are_ going with Harry, Mum. The question is: will we be able to come home?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to shrink; it was the first time Harry had seen her look so vulnerable. "Ginny, you're not even of age."

"It doesn't matter, Mum. I'm going."

"I can't convince you otherwise?" Ron and Ginny shook their heads.

Her eyes glistening with tears, Mrs. Weasley looked her two youngest children in the eye. "Then go. And you can always come back home, always."

* * *

Early the next morning, the Skifflemont Six, as all but Hermione had begun to think of themselves, gathered outside with brooms. Harry, Ginny, and Ron had their own while Hermione, Luna and, Neville had borrowed from the Weasleys.

Ginny had been attempting for the past few days to convince Hermione that there were more important arguments, but she had yet to succeed. ("But they don't exist!"

"Does it really matter? Now, if you can think of a better name…"

"But the entire idea of a name is ridiculous!"

"Again, does it really matter?")

Harry looked around at the others. "This is your last chance to leave. If you come with me now, you're stuck in the battle."

"Will you stop?" Neville asked, sounding quite annoyed, "We're coming with you, and we're _not_ going to change our minds."

"You're all sure?"

"Harry James Potter," Ginny exploded, "if you try to talk us out of this one more time I'll hex your toes off!"

"She probably would. She'd make sure that re-attaching your toes would be possible, but she'd definitely hex them off."

Ginny glared at her older brother. "Thank you, Ron," she replied icily.

Harry laughed quietly. Ginny turned to glare at him.

"Is there something humorous going on?"

"No, no, of course not." He turned hastily to Hermione. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Almost. Let me Disillusion everybody, and then we'll wait for the all clear. You all have the Unfillable Bags?"

Five voices answer, "yes," with various levels of exasperation. Hermione Disillusioned them, and Harry pulled out his More-Than-Two-Way-Mirror. Several minutes passed in silence, and then the face of one of the Weasley twins appeared in the glass.

"Hello, Glorious Leader!"

"Is the house clean?"

"Well, it's currently in pieces, but there are no traces of dark magic and we've already set up most of the wards. Once you get here, we'll set up the rest."

"Wait—in pieces?"

The face in the mirror grinned and disappeared.

"Typical," Harry muttered, "We should probably go before they destroy anything else."

* * *

It was quite a long flight, and the fact that Luna, Hermione, and Neville were not as comfortable on brooms as the Quidditch players did not help matters. It reminded Harry of a similar flight two years ago, and he was grateful that the weather, at least, was better.

Finally, they flew onto the property known as Godric's Hollow, and Harry felt a tingling spread throughout his body as he crossed the barrier. Then he caught sight of the house.

"In pieces" was an understatement. No part of the building was still standing. The ground was covered in debris, but it was so overgrown by weeds and vines that it was impossible to tell what part of the house had been where.

Harry heard a low whistle coming from behind him, and then Ron's voice. "I heard You-Know-Who's attack destroyed it, but this…"

"Why didn't anyone fix it?"

"They couldn't," Hermione answered. "Legally, I mean. Harry is his parent's sole heir. The house belongs to him, and he's the only one who can authorize repairs."

As she spoke, Fred and George carefully made their way over the broken ground toward the others. They both reached into their Unfillable Bags and pulled out a pair of galleons engraved with the letters DA.

Luna had come up with the idea of using the old galleons as identification; Hermione had discovered the spell that would make the engraving visible only when held by the owner of the coin, and then only to someone who had a coin of their own; and Fred and George had traveled around to all the members of the DA bewitching the coins that they now once again carried at all times.

Having identified themselves, Fred and George began speaking almost immediately. "Welcome friends,"

"And baby siblings,"

"To your new headquarters!"

"It could use some repairs,"

"And I hope you're prepared to camp out for some time,"

"But it's safe!"

"The wards are designed so that only someone with a DA coin will be able to get through."

"We got the idea from that ward the Death Eaters had."

"It'll also block anyone without a coin who tries to apparate in or use floo powder,"

"And portkeys won't work at all."

"And, of course, since the DA coins are now One-Wizard-Only,"

"No Death Eaters will be able to get in using stolen coins."

"The ward will also let you know when anyone enters,"

"Even if they have a coin."

"Well, we've got work to do at the shop,"

"And you've got work to do here,"

"So we'll leave now."

"But hey, after de-toxifying the Black house,"

"How hard can it be?" they finished together, and with that, they were gone.

Harry looked around, sighed, and turned to the others. "I guess we'd better get started then."

* * *

POC2: Wow, my chapters are getting longer and longer, aren't they?

W: Chock-full with information and action.

H: I doubt your readers will complain about that.

POC2: Probably not. I think that, as the action picks up, chapters will almost _have_ to be longer. Hope you appreciate it.

And about Godric's Hollow: until Book Seven it can be taken either as a village or the name of the property (like the Burrow). I'm taking it as the latter.

Next: The repairs begin and—there's a Potter family House Elf?!


	9. Return to Godric's Hollow

POC2: Hermione! Disclaimer time!

H: Do I have to?

POC2: Yes.

H: Why?

POC2: Because I said so.

Disclaimer: POC2 doesn't own anything related to Harry Potter, including me.

Thank Heavens.

POC2: HEY!

W: See, Hermione? It's not THAT hard…

* * *

Return to Godric's Hollow

The wedding reception and all the other parties were canceled; it didn't feel right to be celebrating with Charlie's death so fresh in everybody's minds. The Weasleys all seemed to be in shock at the sudden transition from festivity to tragedy. Charlie was buried quietly; Mrs. Weasley was afraid that a large funeral would only serve as another target for the Death Eaters. The plan was to have a memorial when there was less of chance that someone would be killed there.

Fleur had been a godsend. She seemed to be everywhere at once: talking, listening, or simply picking up the slack when odd jobs were left undone, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to take comfort in the fact that, though she had lost a son, she had gained a daughter.

It was nearly a week after the attack when Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville approached Mrs. Weasley.

"I think this is goodbye," Harry told her, "We need to get started; every day we waste increases the chance that there will be another attack before we leave."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Ron and Ginny aren't going."

Ron and Ginny looked furious. "What?!"

"Mum, we already talked about this. You agreed!"

"That was before your brother was killed. I respected your wishes to fight, but I will not allow you to put yourselves in any more danger. I've heard your reasons, and your presence will not mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"How do you know?"

"Do you honestly think that if the war is won it will be because you fought?"

"Mum, look--" Ginny turned to Harry helplessly. "Can I tell her? Please?" Harry nodded. "There are certain… magical items. If we collect them, then You-Know-Who will be vulnerable. The Death Eaters probably don't know that these items exist. It's not like we're planning an attack on the Death Eaters. If everything goes as planned, we may not ever face them."

"I still see no reason for you to be part of this mission. If you won't be facing the Death Eaters, then Harry doesn't need you."

Harry decided that he should speak up before either of the women said something they couldn't take back. "On the night Dumbledore was killed, he and I were searching for one of these items. There were… certain defenses around it, and it would have been impossible to get through them with only one person. Each of the six of us has something unique that only he or she can do. We do need Ron and Ginny."

"No. This is not up for discussion. I WILL NOT ALLOW GINNY AND RON--"

"IT'S NOT A QUESTION OF LETTING US!"

"RONALD WEASLEY, DON'T YOU DARE TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME."

"ENOUGH, MUM!" Ron roared. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone that Harry had rarely ever heard from him. "Harry and Hermione are my best friends; they're not going to go off without me. I am of age, and you cannot force me to stay here, or to go to school. The war is here, and I'm going to fight, and there is _nothing you can do about it_."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be in shock.

"Mum," Ginny said quietly, "We don't want to fight with you, but if you make us, then we will.

"This is important to us. We are going to fight; we have to."

"I just want to keep you safe," her mother whispered.

"No where is safe, Mum; _life_ isn't safe. Even when there isn't a war going on, _life _is dangerous. I could go out on my broom, and fall off, and break my neck. Does that mean I should never fly?

"The only way to truly keep us safe is lock us up and never let us out of the house. You have to let us grow up at some point."

"Not yet, Ginny, you're only sixteen."

"By the time I was _twelve_ I had been possessed and nearly killed by You-Know-Who.

"Ron and I _are_ going with Harry, Mum. The question is: will we be able to come home?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to shrink; it was the first time Harry had seen her look so vulnerable. "Ginny, you're not even of age."

"It doesn't matter, Mum. I'm going."

"I can't convince you otherwise?" Ron and Ginny shook their heads.

Her eyes glistening with tears, Mrs. Weasley looked her two youngest children in the eye. "Then go. And you can always come back home, always."

* * *

Early the next morning, the Skifflemont Six, as all but Hermione had begun to think of themselves, gathered outside with brooms. Harry, Ginny, and Ron had their own while Hermione, Luna and, Neville had borrowed from the Weasleys.

Ginny had been attempting for the past few days to convince Hermione that there were more important arguments, but she had yet to succeed. ("But they don't exist!"

"Does it really matter? Now, if you can think of a better name…"

"But the entire idea of a name is ridiculous!"

"Again, does it really matter?")

Harry looked around at the others. "This is your last chance to leave. If you come with me now, you're stuck in the battle."

"Will you stop?" Neville asked, sounding quite annoyed, "We're coming with you, and we're _not_ going to change our minds."

"You're all sure?"

"Harry James Potter," Ginny exploded, "if you try to talk us out of this one more time I'll hex your toes off!"

"She probably would. She'd make sure that re-attaching your toes would be possible, but she'd definitely hex them off."

Ginny glared at her older brother. "Thank you, Ron," she replied icily.

Harry laughed quietly. Ginny turned to glare at him.

"Is there something humorous going on?"

"No, no, of course not." He turned hastily to Hermione. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Almost. Let me Disillusion everybody, and then we'll wait for the all clear. You all have the Unfillable Bags?"

Five voices answer, "yes," with various levels of exasperation. Hermione Disillusioned them, and Harry pulled out his More-Than-Two-Way-Mirror. Several minutes passed in silence, and then the face of one of the Weasley twins appeared in the glass.

"Hello, Glorious Leader!"

"Is the house clean?"

"Well, it's currently in pieces, but there are no traces of dark magic and we've already set up most of the wards. Once you get here, we'll set up the rest."

"Wait—in pieces?"

The face in the mirror grinned and disappeared.

"Typical," Harry muttered, "We should probably go before they destroy anything else."

* * *

It was quite a long flight, and the fact that Luna, Hermione, and Neville were not as comfortable on brooms as the Quidditch players did not help matters. It reminded Harry of a similar flight two years ago, and he was grateful that the weather, at least, was better.

Finally, they flew onto the property known as Godric's Hollow, and Harry felt a tingling spread throughout his body as he crossed the barrier. Then he caught sight of the house.

"In pieces" was an understatement. No part of the building was still standing. The ground was covered in debris, but it was so overgrown by weeds and vines that it was impossible to tell what part of the house had been where.

Harry heard a low whistle coming from behind him, and then Ron's voice. "I heard You-Know-Who's attack destroyed it, but this…"

"Why didn't anyone fix it?"

"They couldn't," Hermione answered. "Legally, I mean. Harry is his parent's sole heir. The house belongs to him, and he's the only one who can authorize repairs."

As she spoke, Fred and George carefully made their way over the broken ground toward the others. They both reached into their Unfillable Bags and pulled out a pair of galleons engraved with the letters DA.

Luna had come up with the idea of using the old galleons as identification; Hermione had discovered the spell that would make the engraving visible only when held by the owner of the coin, and then only to someone who had a coin of their own; and Fred and George had traveled around to all the members of the DA bewitching the coins that they now once again carried at all times.

Having identified themselves, Fred and George began speaking almost immediately. "Welcome friends,"

"And baby siblings,"

"To your new headquarters!"

"It could use some repairs,"

"And I hope you're prepared to camp out for some time,"

"But it's safe!"

"The wards are designed so that only someone with a DA coin will be able to get through."

"We got the idea from that ward the Death Eaters had."

"It'll also block anyone without a coin who tries to apparate in or use floo powder,"

"And portkeys won't work at all."

"And, of course, since the DA coins are now One-Wizard-Only,"

"No Death Eaters will be able to get in using stolen coins."

"The ward will also let you know when anyone enters,"

"Even if they have a coin."

"Well, we've got work to do at the shop,"

"And you've got work to do here,"

"So we'll leave now."

"But hey, after de-toxifying the Black house,"

"How hard can it be?" they finished together, and with that, they were gone.

Harry looked around, sighed, and turned to the others. "I guess we'd better get started then."

* * *

POC2: Wow, my chapters are getting longer and longer, aren't they?

W: Chock-full with information and action.

H: I doubt your readers will complain about that.

POC2: Probably not. I think that, as the action picks up, chapters will almost _have_ to be longer. Hope you appreciate it.

And about Godric's Hollow: until Book Seven it can be taken either as a village or the name of the property (like the Burrow). I'm taking it as the latter.

Next: The repairs begin and—there's a Potter family House Elf?!


	10. Settling In

POC2: Well, I changed my mind about the strike. After taking some time off and calming down, I realized that those people who haven't reviewed before would probably ignore my ranting and raving.

Besides, it wasn't fair to the people who actually _do _review. (Not that there are many of you, but it still wasn't fair.

Also, unlike the participants in the _real_ writer's strike, I enjoy what I'm doing.

However, one good thing _did_ come out of it: I used the time to edit the first nine chapters of this and all of my Wicked drabbles.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get on to the disclaimer. Let's see, whose turn is it now… aha! Oh, Elphaba…

E: Let me get this straight: you've dragger me all the way from Wicked to do your disclaimer because Randomly can hold out a strike longer than you can?

POC2: …Yeah, that's about right.

Disclaimer: POC2 owns nothing. Can I go home now?

POC2: Sure. Now, on to the chapter.

* * *

Settling In

Ron groaned. "This is going to take a long time, isn't it? I mean, unless we can just wave our wands and say _reparo_…"

Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes. "_Reparo_ won't work on something this large, Ronald."

"I didn't think it would, 'Mione, I'm not stupid!"

"Well, it would be nice if you would show that more often!"

"At least I'm not such a know-it-all!"

"Tell me, Ronald," Hermione replied icily, "if I wasn't such a 'know-it-all,' as you so crudely put it, where would you be today?"

"Flunking school, I'd imagine," Ginny interjected. "Or even worse, doing your own work. On second thought," she added, "you'd probably be dead."

Ron glared at his sister. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"You shouldn't be so-"

"I hate to interrupt," Harry interrupted, "but shouldn't we address the fact that we have neither a headquarters nor a place to stay?"

Hermione gave another long-suffering sigh. "Men!" she reached into her Bag and pulled out—

"Aren't those the tents that we used at the World Cup?"

Hermione nodded. "Apparently, when Mr. Weasley tried to return them, Perkins wouldn't take them back. I asked if we could use them. And since we can set them up using magic…" With a wave of her wand, the tents built themselves. "There. Now, while there is no one spell that will fix everything, there are a number that will help. We'll use the furniture from the tents and, with any luck, we'll be done with the construction and searching for the Horcruxes within a week or two."

Neville gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Thank Merlin for Hermione Granger."

* * *

Two weeks later, the Skifflemont Six gathered around the completed house. While not a mansion or work of art by any stretch of the imagination, the building at Godric's Hollow was habitable and sturdy.

"Well," Ron announced with a touch of pride, "it's not bad for six people in two weeks. Wait, what's Luna doing?"

The blond girl was crouching next to the wall with a fairly large pile of the plants that had been cleared during the construction lying at her feet, and she seemed to be arranging it into some sort of symbol.

"Er, Luna?"

"I'm preparing an offering for the Hadshes," she explained without looking up. "They visit every newly constructed house and, if they find a satisfactory gift, they bless it." She frowned slightly. "I do wish there were some flowers or fruits growing around here; they love those."

"Luna-"

Whatever Hermione was going to say, she was cut off by two _pops_ and a _crack_ as Fred and George appeared next to her with, of all things, a house-elf.

The creature was small, even for an elf, and seemed to be female. She, if the elf was indeed female, was wearing something very similar to the Hogwarts uniform, except that it had a family crest Harry didn't recognize in place of the Hogwarts seal.

"Hello all," Fred began, "allow me to introduce Fawny. She's… well, I'll let her explain."

"Fawny is the Potter family house-elf," Fawny squeaked. "She and her family has been serving the Potters for many, many years. When Master James and Mistress Lily is going into hiding, they is instructing Fawny to work at Hogwarts until she can return to serve a Potter at Hogwarts. Now Master Harry is living here, so Fawny can come home!"

Harry was shocked. "There's a Potter family house-elf?"

"The Potters _are_ an old wealthy family," Hermione told him, "so it is logical. However, I'm not positive I would feel comfortable with a house-elf here."

"Can you cook?" Ron asked her.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you cook?" he repeated. "Because I can't, I know Ginny can't, and I doubt Harry or Neville can; so unless you or Luna know your way around a kitchen, none of us do. We've been surviving on food that doesn't need to be cooked for the past two weeks, but wouldn't it be nice to have a hot meal every once in a while?"

"Well, I can cook a bit," Harry told them, "but Ron has a point. We're going to be very busy with DA business, and life will be much easier if Fawny takes care of the housekeeping."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I'll accept that, but that doesn't mean I like it."

Fawny peered up at Hermione. "You is the Granger girl, isn't you?" she asked hesitantly. "You is the one who is trying to free the elves." Hermione nodded. "Why is you trying to free us? We is good elves, we is!"

"Because you don't deserve to be slaves!" Hermione told her. "No living being deserves to be treated the way you are! Besides, Dobby enjoys freedom."

"Dobby is a strange elf," Fawny told her, "and even Dobby is only liking being freed from his _old_ masters. After he is getting his clothes, he is finding new work.

"Elves is not knowing how to be free," she added. "We is working, our parents is working, all elves is working for as long as we is remembering. Even if elves is wanting freedom, we is not knowing anything except serving wizards. There is being no place in the world for a free elf."

"But why can't we change that?" Hermione asked. "Why can't we teach you something else?"

"Elves is not ready to learn about freedom. If you is really wanting to help elves, then you is teaching Wizards to be good masters, not teaching elves to be bad servants."

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe Fawny _should_ stay. It seems that she can teach us quite a bit."

"If Miss is thinking so," Fawny replied. "Fawny is always happy to help."

"That," Ron declared, "is the most outspoken house-elf I have ever seen."

"Fawny meant no disrespect," the elf said quickly. "Mistress Lily always instructed Fawny to tell Mistress Lily and Master James when they did something that they did not intend. Fawny can change if her new masters is wanting her to."

You did the right thing, Fawny," Hermione reassured her. "I'd like to know if anything I do hurts you or anyone else."

"What I'd like to know," said Neville, "is why Fawny appeared _now_. We've been here for two weeks already."

"There was a lot to take care of after Dumbledore died," explained Fred, "so McGonagall just realized that Fawny was yours."

"Speaking of things that are yours," George cut in, "the _Fidelius_ charm fell apart when the Secret Keeper died,"

"And many of the other protections ended with the death of the last person to carry the Black name,"

"So Grimmauld place is pretty much useless as a headquarters."

"Sirius left everything to you,"

"So you can pick up anything you want from there."

"By the way, about Fawny:"

"We brought her in this time,"

"But if you want her to be able to come and go freely,"

"She'll need a coin."

"Well, we've got a lot of customers,"

"So I guess we'll have to leave." Then they disappeared.

Neville shook his head. "Is it just me," he asked, "or do they give everyone a headache?"

Ginny just laughed. "You get used to it."

* * *

With Fawny's help, the house was soon transformed from a rather slapdash building to a sturdier headquarters. Crooked walls straightened up, sagging roofs flattened out, and holes were sealed as the house-elf worked her domestic magic.

Meanwhile, furniture and dishes filled the house. Fawny had begun transferring Black family items in as soon as Hermione had created a coin for her, though she had orders to return to Godric's Hollow immediately if she saw any Death Eaters.

Now that the house was her responsibility, the Skifflemont Six could finally begin searching for the Horcruxes.

"So how do we begin?" Ginny asked, "Do we have any clues?"

"Someone called R.A.B. found the first one," answered Ron, "so I guess we start—"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry quickly pulled the Mirror out of his Bag. "Colin?"

Colin Creevey was gasping for breath. His face was red and his hair was disheveled, but his smile was so wide that Harry could have counted his teeth. "You won't believe what Denis found!"

* * *

POC2: What _did_ Denis find? Will we _ever_ start looking for the Horcruxes? What _was_ I thinking when I created a Potter family House Elf? _Why_ am I so obsessed with italics? And what does _any_ of this have to do with Arthur Weasley's secret identity? All this and more, (well, not _all_ this, but some of this and more) in the next chapter!

R: Arthur Weasley's secret identity?! What are you _on_?

W: I don't know, but whatever it is, I sure hope she's not addicted.

POC2: Teehee. Well, writing in house-elf talk is _hard_. Let me know if anything I wrote is blatantly wrong.

Next: A startling discovery opens up astounding possibilities, and Ron's true role within the DA is revealed.


	11. General Weasley

POC2: Oh, Raven!

Rav: What?

POC2: You're doing the disclaimer this chapter.

Rav: You're really so desperate that you need your other fandom Muses to do your disclaimer?

POC2: …So what if I am?

Rav: Have you tried _talking_ to her?

POC2: Umm….

W: She's your alter-ego!! How do you NOT talk to her???

H: I think they mean talk it out like civilized people.

Disclaimer: POC2 isn't J. K. Rowling. Get over it.

* * *

General Weasley

Colin looked utterly exhausted, but Harry had rarely seen him happier.

"You won't believe it," he repeated. "Now we'll be able to hear exactly what the Slytherins are up to! Maybe we'll even hear some Death Eaters—"

"Colin! Slow down and start from the beginning!"

The elder Creevey brother took several deep breaths and began his story.

"We weren't expecting many Slytherins to return to Hogwarts," he explained. "We thought most of them would join their parents as Death Eaters. As it turns out, a surprising number turned up when the year began. We think that a lot of the older students came to recruit the younger ones. Some may even be Death Eaters themselves.

"We figured out where the Slytherin common room is, and we've been trying to find some way to hear what they're planning. Unfortunately, the Extendable Eyes and Ears can't get into the common room from outside.

"Well, Denis was down in the dungeon when he saw something that caught his eye…

"Anyway, long story short, Denis found a secret passage into the Slytherin common room!"

Colin looked up at Harry's shocked face and grinned. "Actually, it's a good thing we Creeveys are so small: Denis said that even he barely fit into the passage way.

"We can use the Extendable Eyes and Ears from in there, but there's no way the Slytherins can see us."

A thought struck Harry. "Hey, Colin, could you hold on a minute? I want to check something."

"Sure thing, Harry."

Harry pulled out a well-worn piece of parchment, and with a tap of his wand and a muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," the Marauders' Map appeared. Harry quickly scanned the bottom of the map and then looked up.

"I'm not sure what passage he's talking about," he told them, "but it's not on here."

Hermione frowned for a moment and then picked up the mirror.

"Colin," she asked, "where are you?"

"I'm in the Room of Requirement," he replied.

"Is Denis with you?" Colin nodded. "Tell him to go down to the Dungeons and enter the passage," she instructed. "Have him stay down there a few minutes, and then he can leave."

"Er, Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively. "What is that?"

It's the Marauders' Map," he answered. "My dad and his friends made it while they were in school. It's a long story; I'll explain later."

They watched as the small dot representing Denis Creevey made his way through the corridors of Hogwarts until he reached the Dungeons. Then he walked over to the wall, and suddenly he seemed to be standing inside the solid stone.

Harry looked up.

"Does anybody know what just happened?" he asked.

Luna shrugged. "Your father and his friends made the Map, right? Maybe they never found that passageway."

Hermione gave a short laugh. "Of course," she said, "it makes perfect sense. We've always assumed that the Marauders found all the passageways in the school, but they _were_ only human. They couldn't possibly put in any passages they didn't know about." She frowned. "However, this brings up the disturbing possibility that the Death Eaters may also know about some passages that we don't."

Suddenly, Ron gasped. "Fawny!"

The house-elf appeared by his side. "Is sir wanting something?"

Ron quickly described the passage that Denis had found. "Do the house-elves use anything like that?" he asked.

Fawny nodded. "We is having a number of passages to get from place to place in the castle without waking people."

Hermione stared at him. "Ron, that's brilliant! I never would have thought of that!"

But Ron wasn't done. "I'll bet Fred and George could designs something that would warn us if a non-elf entered those passages. Any house-elf could show us where they are, and we'd be able to spy on the Slytherins while making sure that they couldn't spy on us."

Harry picked up the Mirror and looked in.

"Did you hear all that?" he asked Colin. Colin nodded. "Do you know how to get to the kitchens?" Colin shook his head. "Alright. Take the stairs down from the Great Hall, and you'll find yourself in a corridor full of pictures of food. One of these shows a bowl of fruit. If you tickle the pear, it'll let you into the kitchens. Ask for Dobby. If you tell him that Harry Potter sent you, he'll show you all the passageways that the elves use.

"Then, call Fred and George and ask if they can give you anything that might help.

"If we think of anything else you need to do, we'll let you know."

Colin nodded and disappeared.

Harry then turned to Fawny. "Fawny, I want you to go to the Hogwarts kitchen and help Dobby with everything he needs."

"Would you stop by the Black house afterwards?" Hermione requested. "I left Hogwarts, a History in my room last time we stayed there, and I'd like to look something up."

With a low bow and a _crack_, Fawny disappeared. When only the Skifflemont Six were left in the room, Harry turned to Ron. "Alright, what do we do now?"

Ron stared at him, "Why are you asking me?"

"Because that's your job," Luna told him casually. "You're our general, I suppose you could say."

"No, that's Harry's job," the red-head replied. "Harry's our leader."

Luna smiled. "Sort of," she told him, "But not really. Everyone _expects_ Harry to be the leader, and everyone _thinks_ he's the leader, so everyone listens to him, but you'll be the one who really comes up with the plans."

Ron looked around helplessly.

"She's right," said Hermione. "Everyone in the DA will listen to Harry because they all think of him as a hero, but he's not a strategist. He's really more of a figurehead. You, on the other hand, are a chess player, so you already know most of what you need in order to lead an army. You just need to think of it as a game of chess.

"You're the best choice, Ron. Remember, before you beat McGonagall's giant chess set, no one thought it was possible."

"But part of chess is sacrificing pieces; putting them in positions where you expect them to be captured in order to capture the king. I can't do that with my friends!"

"Not even to defeat Voldemort?" she asked bluntly.

"Hermione, I can't purposefully send my friends into battles where I expect them to be captured or killed!"

"None of us want to, Ron," Hermione told him, "But we may have to."

Ron stared at Hermione for a moment and then stood and left, looking slightly sick.

Hermione looked uneasily after him. "Do you think he'll be alright?" she asked quietly.

"He'll be fine," Luna said softly. "He just needs to get used to the idea of leading."

Neville bit his lip. "It's true, isn't it. There really is a good chance we won't live through this."

No one answered. For several minuets they sat together in uneasy silence processing the truth of Neville's statement. Harry stared at his hands, unable to look the others in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

"Stop being so thick!" They looked up to find Ron standing in the doorway and glaring at Harry.

"Stop being so thick," he repeated, "You couldn't have kept us away if you wanted to!" He took a deep breath and gave Harry a small smile. "So I'm gonna have to make all the hard decisions while you get all the glory? I guess I should have expected that."

Before Harry could answer, Fawny appeared next to him clutching Hermione's book and gasping.

"There is a Death Eater!" she squeaked, her eyes wide with terror. "There is a Death Eater in Grimmauld place!"

Harry knelt down in front of the trembling elf and put his hands on her sholders. "Do you know who it was?" he asked urgently. "Did you recognize the Death Eater?"

"Fawny in knowing him," she told him with a faint not of hysteria in her voice, "Fawny is seeing him many times. Master James is never liking him; not ever. Severus Snape is in the Master's house!"

* * *

Next: When the Skifflemont Six attempts to figure out what Snape is doing in Grimmauld place, they make a shocking discovery that (finally) sends them after the Horcruxes once more.


	12. The RAB Papers

POC2: IT'S FINALLY BETAED!!!!!

Sorry for the wait, but I hope to get back on track now.

Anyway… Midnight! Do the disclaimer!

M: Meow.

POC2: I know you don't speak English; I'm not stupid. Just do it, I'll translate.

H: Actually—

M: Hsss

H: I won't say anything! Don't hurt me!

W: Hermione? Afraid of a CAT? After all you've been through? (snickers)

Disclaimer: Meow.

POC2: Midnight says that I don't own anything, and she wishes I would feed her more often.

Wait—feed you? You're imaginary!

M: Meow?

POC2: So—so—ARRGH!

* * *

The RAB Papers

With a roar of fury, Harry leapt to his feet and grabbed Hermione's arm.

"Take me there," he snarled.

"What?"

"You can Apparate. I'll slide-along. Take me there _now_!"

"Harry, please think before—"

"Don't you _dare_ try to calm me—"

"STOP!" Ron looked almost as angry as Harry felt. "Let go of her! She's not the enemy; she's trying to keep you from getting yourself killed!"

But Harry was beyond reason. "That _murderer_ is in Sirius's house doing who-knows-what. His taunting was half the reason Sirius died; then he killed Dumbledore with his own wand, and now he _dares_ to walk through Sirius's house like he belongs there?! Take me to Grimmauld place so that I can kill him myself!"

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "What if that's his plan? What if the reason he went to Grimmauld place was so that you would follow him? He could kill you!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Harry answered. "I DON'T—"

"How dare you?" Ginny hissed like a furious animal. "How dare you? You try to keep me out of this in some misguided attempt to protect me, you keep pushing me away so I 'won't get hurt,' you ignore what I want, you ignore the fact that your stupidity is hurting me far more than any Death Eater ever could, and then you have the gall to run off with no regard for your own life and no thought for what your pointless sacrifice would do to anyone else! You've dealt with enough losses to know that your death would hurt everyone close to you.

"Before you charge off on some suicide revenge mission, think about that, and stop being so selfish!"

"Harry, look at it logically," Hermione pleaded. "What reason would he have to return other than to lure you there?"

"He used to be part of the Order, didn't he?" Luna suggested. "And Grimmauld place used to be the Order's headquarters, didn't it? Maybe he left something behind the last time he was there."

Ron stared at her in complete shock. "That makes a surprising amount of sense. Maybe there's some kind of magical item that the Blacks had, and You-Know-Who sent Snape to fetch it."

"If that's true," Harry said more calmly, "Then shouldn't we see if anything's missing? That way, we may get a hint of what he's up to."

Hermione looked at him warily. "I'll take you," she said, "On two conditions: You have to promise not to do anything reckless, and Fawny has to come with us."

"Fine," Harry replied. "Can we go now?"

Hermione nodded and held out her arm. Harry grabbed it and immediately felt the increasingly-familiar pressure as he and Hermione Disapparated.

* * *

When Harry looked around, the first thing he thought of was Slughorn's house: There were too many similarities to ignore.

One room in particular had been completely torn apart. A plaque on the door reading "Regu—" was hanging halfway off the door; the other letters had been blown off. The mattress on the bed in the corner had been torn to pieces, and feathers were scattered everywhere as though someone had been searching for something inside the mattress. Pictures were lying all over the floor with the glass completely shattered. Sections of the wall had been blasted off. Pillows had been ripped open and thrown everywhere. Furniture lay in jagged pieces.

Behind Harry, Hermione gasped and looked around. "Merlin's beard, Harry, what could he have been looking for?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, "but I guess he found it if he isn't here anymore."

Hermione frowned. "I wouldn't be so sure. Look."

Harry followed her gaze to a small scrap of black fabric that seemed to have been torn off the edge of a cloak after it had gotten caught on the sharp edge of what had once been the leg of a chair.

"He seems to have left in a hurry," Hermione noted, "he may have rushed out without finding what he was looking for as soon as he saw Fawny. If we clean this up and take our time, we may even find whatever-it-was."

"Fawny can take care of it," the house-elf said softly.

She snapped her fingers, and the feathers flew back into the mattress.

Another snap and the tears in the mattress were repaired.

_Snap!_ The furniture was put back together.

_Snap! _The broken glass was repaired.

_Snap! _The walls no longer had holes.

_Snap! _The pictures returned to the walls.

_Snap!_

"Stop!" shouted Hermione.

Once again, Harry turned to where she was pointing. One of the floorboards was broken nearly in two: It seemed to have cracked when a heavy picture had fallen on it. That picture had been covering it, but now that the picture was gone, a piece of parchment was clearly visible underneath the crack.

Harry and Hermione ran over, pried off the broken wood, and pulled out several rolls of parchment and an old fashioned locket with a large crack running down the middle and a stylized S on the front.

Harry heard a sharp intake of breath that he vaguely realized had come from his own throat.

Hermione looked at him. "Harry?"

"It's the locket."

"What?"

"It's Slytherin's locket!"

"You mean…"

"Hermione, this is a Horcrux!"

"Excuse Fawny," the house-elf cut in, "but it is _used _to be a Horcrux."

Harry and Hermione turned to stare at her.

"Fawny," Harry asked, "how could you possibly know that?"

"Professor Dumbledore is teaching Fawny," she explained quietly. "He is teaching her how to recognize a Horcrux, how to recognize a Horcrux that is destroyed, and how to destroy a Horcrux. Do not be angry with Fawny," she added quickly at the expression on Harry's face, "Sir is ordering Fawny not to tell anyone until they is needing to know."

"NEED TO KNOW?!" Harry shouted, "WHY DOES HE KEEP TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT I 'NEED TO KNOW'? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND THE HORCRUXESIF I DON'T KNOW THESE THINGS?"

"Fawny is sorry!" the elf sobbed, "Fawny is not being able to tell sir unless sir is asking her directly!"

"Harry," Hermione said sharply, "don't yell at Fawny, this isn't her fault. Calm down and we'll talk about this with the others when we get back to Godric's Hollow."

Harry glared at her. "Why do all of you keep telling me to calm down?"

"Because you need to. You keep letting your anger take control of you, and then you don't think clearly. You think with your emotions, Harry. It can be a great strength, or a great weakness." She bit her lip. "I—it looks like this scroll is first. Maybe we should…"

She trailed off and held up a scroll that said, in large letters on the outside, "_READ THIS FIRST_"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess it is first. What does it say?"

Hermione cleared her throat and began to read aloud.

"_My dear reader:_

"_If you have found this and it does not look like blank parchment to you that means several things:_

"_First, it means that you are not a follower of the Dark Lord. Even if you bear his mark, which is likely given the hiding place that I have chosen, you do not truly believe in his cause._

"_Second, it means that, given the chance, you would work to stop him._

"_Third, it means that I am dead or otherwise incapable of fulfilling the task that I have taken upon myself._

"_The Dark Lord has always desired immortality, and he has taken several steps towards this goal. Perhaps the most horrible of these is the creation of Horcruxes: He has literally split his very soul into seven parts and hidden six of these parts in various places. Until each of these six Horcruxes is destroyed, he cannot be killed._

"_The locket that you find here is what remains of one of the Horcruxes. Instructions to find the next, as well as what I know about retrieving it, are in the next scroll. _

"_The three scrolls after that contain hints as to where you may find the directions to the next three Horcruxes. _

"_The sixth scroll explains how to eradicate the bit of soul protected by each Horcrux._

"_The final Horcrux has eluded me._

"_I pray that you have better luck in your endeavor than I have had in mine, because the Dark Lord must be stopped. _

"_Good luck, my dear reader, you may well be the Wizarding world's last hope._

"_Farewell, my dear reader,_

"_RAB."_

Hermione turned to Harry, her eyes wide with shock. "Harry, this could be everything that we need!"

Harry frowned. "It could; I just wish we knew who this RAB was."

Hermione gasped. The sign on the door, Harry, it started with an R!"

"I think it said 'Regulus,'" Harry noted, "that was Sirius's younger brother."

"Harry, what if his middle initial was an A?"

"Regulus A. Black," Harry realized, "R. A. B. Come on!"

Harry quickly pulled Hermione through the house to the room that held the family tree.

"Regulus, Regulus," He scanned the bottom of the tapestry. "His middle name's not on here!" Harry screamed in frustration. "What's his middle name?"

To his shock, Regulus's name disappeared and three words wrote themselves in its place.

"Regulus Phineas Black."

* * *

POC2: I never really liked the Regulus A. Black explanation; I always found it too obvious. I hope you'll all like my version.

Next: If Regulus isn't RAB, who is? And what were the papers doing in his room? Plus: 3 down, 4 to go; the Skifflemont Six prepare to go after their first Horcrux. Also, it looks like Harry and Ginny _really_ need to talk.


	13. Three Down, Four to Go

POC2: Sorry for the long wait, the play that I was in sort of took over my life for a little bit, and then I had to catch up w

POC2: Sorry for the long wait, the play that I was in sort of took over my life for a little bit, and then I had to catch up with life and homework. By the way, the last chapter has now been betaed and reposted—I noticed that the website didn't notify those of you who subscribed to the story.

On that note, WEIRD! I'm running out of people to do the disclaimer, so now it's your turn.

W: Why can't the cat do it?

POC2: Because the cat did the last one, genius. Now do the disclaimer before I hurt you!

W: Fiiiiine.

Disclaimer: POC2 isn't good enough to be J.K. Rowling! And why in the name of heaven would J.K. Rowling be saying her published version isn't good enough, so here's a different last book?? I mean really, people, use your heads. POC2 DOESN'T OWN ANYTHING.

W: Happy?

POC2: Content.

By the way, I really wanted to take care of the Ginny/Harry scene this chapter, so you get an extra-long chapter. Lucky you!

* * *

Three Down, Four to Go

Harry stared at the tapestry as the great wave of hope that had welled up so recently was destroyed by those three innocent words: Regulus Phineas Black.

R. P. B.

The wonderful solution that had just presented itself was now gone, and they again had only the information that they had started with.

Once again, all that they knew about their mysterious late ally could be found in two letters.

"There's no other R. B. anywhere on the family tree," Hermione said softly. "I guess RAB wasn't a Black."

"We should probably head back to Godric's Hollow," Harry replied. "There's a lot that we need to talk over."

* * *

"Harry! Hermione!"

"You're alright!"

"Where's Snape?"

"What did he want?"

"Is that an anti Blonquer charm?"

As soon as Harry, Hermione, and Fawny reached Headquarters, they were bombarded with questions and comments.

"One question at a time," Hermione scolded. "We'll tell you everything if you give us a chance.

"Now: Snape wasn't there when we arrived; he seemed to have left in a hurry. He seems to have been looking for these: One destroyed Horcrux and instructions on where to find the rest."

"One destroyed," Neville said grimly, "and you said two had already been taken care of. That leaves three more and—and," he took a deep breath, "Voldemort himself," he choked out. "That's if we can trust whoever left these things. Are we sure that the locket was destroyed?"

"Fawny's sure," Harry replied bitterly.

"What?"

"Apparently Dumbledore taught her how to recognize Horcruxes, how to recognize former Horcruxes, and how to destroy Horcruxes," Harry explained, "but she wasn't allowed to tell us."

"That's quite fascinating," Luna commented serenely.

"Fascinating?" Harry repeated. "Fascinating? He's keeping things from us and trying to control us even after death, and all you can say is 'fascinating'?!"

Luna shrugged, undeterred. "Well, it is, isn't it? Dumbledore seems to have been preparing during his life for a situation that couldn't possibly come up until after he was dead. It's almost as though he were expecting to die before the Horcruxes were all found."

"Luna," Hermione sighed, "that doesn't make sense. If he had known that he was going to die, he would have done something about it. If he had known that Snape and Malfoy were Death Eaters, he would have stopped them. At the very least, he would have warned someone so that his death wouldn't have been such a painful shock.

"More likely he knew that he wasn't immortal, and he was preparing just in case."

Luna smiled. "I suppose that's also a possibility."

She cocked her head to the side and thought for a minute. "Harry, what did the room that you found those in look like?"

Harry and Hermione described the state in which they had found the room. They explained how they had found the scrap of cloth, how Fawny had begun to clean up, and how they had noticed the locket and the scrolls. Hermione read RAB's letter out loud, and then told how they had suspected that he may be Sirius's brother, but had been proven wrong. (1)

"So," Luna asked when she finished, "how do you know Snape didn't find it?"

"Because it was still there," Harry answered, confused.

"How do you know he didn't want you to find it?"

"Luna," Neville asked, "why would he want us to find instructions to find and destroy the Horcruxes? And why would a Death Eater destroy a Horcrux?"

Luna shrugged. "Maybe the Horcrux had already been destroyed when he found it. The point is how can we be sure that there won't be Death Eaters waiting for us when we go after the next Horcrux?"

"I know one way," Ginny said. "This scroll supposedly explains how to destroy Horcruxes."

Harry frowned. "How does that help us?"

Ginny sighed. "Dumbledore taught Fawny how to destroy Horcruxes."

"Again," Harry asked, "How does that help us?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and began to speak as though to a very small child. "We can probably assume that we can trust Dumbledore's instructions. No intelligent Death Eater would tell us how to destroy Horcruxes on the off chance that we found one. Snape is a lot of things, but he's not stupid. If the instructions in the scroll match what Dumbledore taught Fawny, then RAB's legitimate."

Harry stared at her. "Gin, you're brilliant."

Ron smirked. "It runs in the family."

"Oh yes," Ginny agreed, "the Weasley women are all very intelligent. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to affect the men."

"Hey!"

"Children, stop bickering," Hermione chided them. She cleared her throat and began to read.

"_It is quite dangerous to conceal a Horcrux inside of anything that is alive because as soon as the vessel dies, the piece of soul will die as well; however, it is unclear how the natural lifespan of the vessel will be affected by the Horcrux. It has been proven that animal Horcruxes can be killed using most conventional means._

"_Destroying a Horcrux in an inanimate object in significantly more difficult, and the destroyer risks his or her soul in the process. The Horcrux must be killed using the Unforgivable Curse…_" Hermione stopped reading and looked up with terror in her eyes.

Afraid of what he would hear, but needing to hear it, Harry motioned for her to continue.

"_The Unforgivable Curse _Avada Kedavra_,_" Hermione whispered. (2)

"_The casting of this curse requires the caster to hate the victim to the point where he or she not only wants to see the victim dead, he or she is determined to kill the victim personally._"

The Skifflemont Six stared at each other in horror, barely daring to breath.

Finally, Harry turned to Hermione. "Is that all it says?"

She nodded slowly.

"Fawny?"

"That is what Professor Dumbledore is teaching Fawny," the house-elf told them.

"Merlin's beard," Ron breathed, "how the bloody hell are we supposed to cast _Avada Kedavra_?"

"One thing at a time," Harry said. "Let's not worry about destroying the Horcruxes until we find them."

"It certainly looks like RAB is on our side," Neville said, "but I really wish we knew who he _was_."

"Or she," Hermione reminded him.

"Ok," Neville said, "I wish we knew who he _or she_ was and what his _or her_ things were doing in Regulus Black's room."

"Maybe RAB was multiple people," Luna suggested.

Hermione sighed. "Luna, he or she wrote in singular."

"That's true," Luna admitted, "but they may not have wanted people to know that it was multiple people. That's what Dippet did."

"Who?"

"Dippet. The headmaster before Dumbledore. He was actually three identical triplets who pretended to be the same person so that they could each do less work, and as protection against assassins."

Ron smirked. "He must've been a real unpopular headmaster."

"No," Luna replied, "just paranoid."

"Luna," Hermione groaned, "Dippet wasn't—oh, never mind. It's not worth it."

"It's a miracle," Ginny cheered, before she and the boys began laughing hysterically.

Hermione folded her arms and glared, which only served to make Ginny laugh harder.

"If you've finished mocking me," Hermione said after several minutes, "there's something that's frightened me."

Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself down. "We're listening," he told Hermione. "Go on."

"RAB never found one of the Horcruxes," she reminded them. "If he couldn't, how can we?"

Harry sighed. "Look, we knew when we started that this wouldn't be easy. We really need to take things one step at a time and worry about that when the time comes."

"Or," Neville pointed out, "we could find out right now whether we need to worry about it at all. Two have already been destroyed," he explained when no one seemed to understand. "If the one that he didn't find is already gone, then we have nothing to worry about."

"Of course," Hermione said, "why didn't I think of that? Let's see… this scroll says 'Ravenclaw's Pin.' Does that sound right?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he picked up the next scroll, "Dumbledore said that he'd probably have something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's. This one says 'the Dark Lord's Snake.' So he did use Nagini."

"Does 'Slytherin's Ring' sound familiar?" Neville asked.

"Dumbledore took care of that one," Harry noted, "so we don't have to. And finally 'Hufflepuff's Cup.'

"So that's four, Voldemort himself is five, the locket is six, and Neville's right," Harry said with a relived laugh. "The seventh is the diary that I destroyed Second Year."

"WHAT?"

Harry stared in shock at Ginny, who had suddenly leapt to her feet. "Gin, what's wrong?"

"The dairy from my first year; the one that I was writing in; that was a HORCRUX?!"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't think it was important to tell me this?"

Harry couldn't understand why she was so upset. "But you knew that you were being possessed by Vol—"

"Yes, but I didn't know that his _soul_ was controlling me!"

Harry was utterly baffled. "That makes a difference?"

Ginny looked at Harry, then Hermione, then Luna, then back at Harry.

"MEN!" she screamed, and stormed out of the room.

"Harry," Hermione said quickly, "go after her."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "Won't I just make things worse?"

"She needs to talk to someone," Luna told him, "and I think she would prefer if it were you."

* * *

When Harry found Ginny, the redhead looked significantly calmer.

She was sitting one a couch with her hands folded in her lap. She was hunched over and staring down at her hands. Her fiery hair was hanging loosely and half-blocking her face from Harry's view.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Harry walked slowly over, sat down next to her, and took her hands in his own.

"Hey," he said softly, "are you ok?"

Ginny looked up and smiled shakily. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright. Sorry I blew up at you like that, I just—it was a bit of a shock. I always just assumed that he'd put some sort of spell on the dairy, but… Merlin's beard, his _soul_?!"

"I probably should have thought of that," Harry admitted ruefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny took a deep breath and looked into his eyes with an intensity that scared him.

"Harry," she said, "we do need to talk, but not about that."

"Alright, I'm listening."

"Harry, I can't keep doing this."

Harry found himself at once extremely relieved and horribly disappointed. "So, what, you want to go home?"

"What? Oh no, not _that_, _this_. This non-relationship we've had ever since you dumped me at Dumbledore's funeral."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny wasn't done.

"I understand why you did it, but you still dumped me, so don't argue.

"But, Harry, most of your arguments don't mean anything!

"Let me finish!

"You said we couldn't be together because it would make me a target for Voldemort, but do you really think he cares if we're officially dating? If he targets me to get to you, it'll be because you care about me, not because we call each other 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend.' I agreed originally because I thought it would make you feel better, and I didn't expect to see you very much until you defeated Voldemort, but now…

"Besides, now that I'm part of the Skifflemont Six, that'll probably make me a target. I know what I told mum, but I'm not stupid. What we're doing is dangerous.

"But, Harry, that's not really the point.

"You're still trying to protect me, and it's really sweet, but I can't live like that. I won't hide away safely while people I care about are risking their lives, and if you can't deal with that, then we can't be together.

"Ever.

"If you think you want to be with someone who's going to be willing to stay where she's safe, fine. I can live with just being friends, and I hope you'll be very happy. But I can't live with this.

"Not anymore."

When she stood up, there were unshed tears in her eyes, but she stood tall, and her voice was steady.

"I realize that I've given you a lot to think about. You can take as much time as you need, but you have to make a decision." She turned to leave.

Harry stood up, put a hand on her shoulder, and turned her around.

"Gin," he said, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Then he pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

1: Last time this took me 1,102 words over four pages. This time it was 64 words. I don't know about you, but I find that pretty funny.

2: As Weird pointed out, this conflicts with the fact that the dairy was destroyed with the fang. My explanation for this discrepancy is that Riddle had already put several spells on the diary before he made it a Horcrux. The dairy was actually semi-animate, and could thus be killed with the fang.

I may try to work this explanation into the story somewhere.

POC2: This is the first time I've attempted to write anything even remotely related to romance, so… (ducks to avoid all the flying tomatoes)

W: It wasn't THAT bad, but… (throws vegetable) Might as well join the fun!

H: (squinting at something in the distance) Hey, isn't that the Olympic snowboarder?

POC2: Holy ca-moley, it is!

W: I don't get it…

R: That's 'cause you're _stu_pid

POC2: Don't forget to review. (Ducks the rest of the flying vegetables.) Hey, no watermelons! It wasn't _that_ bad.

W: First of all, tomatoes aren't a vegetable. Second of all, NEITHER ARE WATERMELONS!! GET A BRAIN, FOR PETE'S SAKE!!

R: You first. Dumb dumb dumb d-dumb dumb d-_stupid_! Dumb dumb dumb…

Next: Well, now that we've talked everything over, we can use RAB's instructions to find and destroy the first Horcrux, right? Of course not. Nothing's ever that easy.

See you next week for: Complications.


	14. Complications

POC2: Randomly, please. I'm desperate. I don't know who else to ask. Please, just _do the disclaimer_!

R: No.

POC2: Randomly, please! I'll do anything!

R: _Anything_?

POC2: Um…

R: I'll tell you what: If you swear to never again even think about censoring my disclaimers again, I'll get back to doing them.

POC2: (weakly) But you can't give away plot points…

R: That's the deal. Take it or leave it.

POC2: …Fine.

R: As I was saying seven chapters ago before POC2 decided to censor me…

Disclaimer: (ahem) If I owned Harry Potter, then Harry would _not_ have both died and survived. Seriously, that struck me as a bit cheap.

POC2: …Wait, that's all you were going to say?

R: _Yes_.

POC2: … I guess I owe you an apology, don't I.

R: Yes.

POC2: Sorry.

W: And the alter ego triumphs once again.

* * *

Complications

Ron, Neville, Luna, and Hermione looked up when Harry and Ginny returned.

"I see you've talked to him," Luna said calmly. "Good for you."

Hermione smiled. "It's about time."

Ron stared determinedly at a point somewhere above Harry's head.

"Er, Ron?" Harry said hesitantly. "Are you…?"

"Look, mate," Ron said, still not looking at his best friend, "I'm perfectly fine with you dating my sister. Even if I wasn't, I wouldn't say anything because whatever she did to me would be strange and painful. Still, I'd rather not know when you two've been snogging."

Harry laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Neville cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Er, I'm really glad you two've worked everything out, but shouldn't we start looking for the next Horcrux?"

Harry felt his face turn red. "Yes, we should. Thanks, Neville." He turned to Hermione. "Do you have the instructions to find the clasp?"

So Hermione picked up the scroll and quickly read it to herself. When she finished, she looked up with a very worried expression on her face. "It's in the Ministry."

"What?"

"Do you remember the archway in the Department of Mysteries? Apparently there's a—I'm not sure what to call it—a dimension, or something, behind it. The clasp is back there."

Neville stared at her. "How are we supposed to get anything from back there?"

"Well, there are instructions for that," Hermione replied, "but we still need to get into the Department of Mysteries and remain undisturbed long enough to get the Horcrux out. I doubt we'll be able to just walk in like we did two years ago."

"Well," Ron suggested, "maybe we could wake a deal with Scrimgeour."

"What kind of a deal?" Harry asked.

"He wanted you to be seen entering and leaving the ministry, right? He thought it would be good publicity or something. So we'll tell him that he can be seen meeting with 'the Chosen One' if he lets us spend as much time as we need around the veil alone. If he tries to cause us trouble, we tell him that we'll publicly denounce him. I don't think he'd like that very much."

"No," Harry growled, "No, I will _not_ be the Ministry's poster boy."

"Harry," Ginny said, "I know you don't like the Ministry. I understand why. But, ultimately, we're on the same side in the war against Voldemort. Wasn't that what Dumbledore always believed in? Unity? We're not asking you to start saying that you support everything that they've done, but you have to be willing to work with these people."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I mean, Smith's a git, but he's done some good things in the DA."

Harry sighed. "Fine. How do we contact the Minister?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, that's easy enough. We'll just call Dad."

"Okay." Harry turned to Hermione. "Why don't you tell us exactly what that scroll says?"

* * *

Several hours later, the Skifflemont Six were waiting at the Burrow when Arthur Weasley arrived home. He seemed fairly startled when he saw them.

"Ron? Ginny? Is everything alright? Is anyone hurt?"

"No," Ron reassured him, "We're all fine. We actually have a rather important question to ask you."

Mr. Weasley sat down on the couch opposite them and addressed them, not as his two youngest children and their friends, but as allies in their war against the most horrible evil he had seen in his life.

"What can I do for you?"

"We need to get into the Department of Mysteries. More specifically, there's something we need to do involving the veil, and it's sort of important that no one disturb us."

Mr. Weasley suddenly gasped and turned pale, and he seemed to be staring at something many miles away as he whispered, "You're going after the Horcrux. Ravenclaw's clasp."

They all stared at him in stunned silence, until Ron found his voice. "How the bloody hell do you know about that, and why the bloody hell didn't you say something before?"

"Ronald!"

But Arthur Weasley seemed as stunned by his revelation as anyone else. "I—I have no idea," he muttered, as though half to himself. "When you said that about the atrium and the veil and needing to be alone something just… fell into place. It's as though I knew it long ago, but I forgot.

"It's frustrating, really. I feel as if there's more to it, but I just can't remember."

"Can you tell us everything you do remember?" Harry asked, eager to capitalize on this potential clue.

"Not very much," he admitted. "Ravenclaw's clasp is behind the veil, though I'm not sure how that's possible. The clasp is a Horcrux—it contains part of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's soul. He made others, but I can't remember how many, or what they are, or where they're hidden. Other than that, only three letters: RAB."

"RAB?" Harry cut in quickly. "You know something about RAB?"

"Not really. I remember those letters, and some obscure phrase: 'A cord of three strands is not easily broken.' (1) I'm not sure where it comes from or what it means," he added before Harry could ask, "but it's related to those letters somehow." He shook his head and sighed. "I'll let you know if I remember anything else, but maybe we should return to the subject that you came here to discuss.

"Getting you into the Ministy undisturbed won't be easy; do you have any idea what you want to do about that?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "that's your job. The Minister has asked me a bunch of times to act as his own personal public-relations poster boy. He wants me to let myself be seen entering and leaving the Ministry so that rumors will start spreading that 'the Chosen One' is working with the Ministry. I need you to tell Scrimgeour that I'm willing to be seen meeting with him if we can use the atrium without be interrupted."

"I'll pass on the message."

* * *

Harry found himself in the Ministry of Magic the very next day.

"Mr. Potter," the Minister said, holding out his hand, "I see you have chosen to accept my invitation. I hope this will lead to a long partnership, beneficial to both sides."

Harry swallowed his anger and shook Scrimgeour's hand. "It's a pleasure, Minister," he said from between clenched teeth, "but, unfortunately, we're in something of a hurry. If you don't mind, we have something urgent to take care of."

"Of course," Scrimgeour replied smoothly, "I'll make sure that no one enters the room until I receive your signal."

There was a slightly awkward silence. Harry felt a sudden sharp pain in his side. He glanced at Ginny, who was looking rather pointedly at the Minister.

"Thank you, Minister," Harry forced out, and the Skifflemont Six headed down to the Department of Mysteries.

* * *

"Are you sure you have everything we need?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Harry, everything is in my Unfillable Bag, just like it was last time you asked, and the time before that, and the time before that…"

Harry raised his hands defensively. "Sorry, but I'd rather not be stranded back there."

"Er, can someone explain what exactly 'back there' is one more time?" Ron asked, "I'm still confused."

"Shocking," Ginny murmured. Ron glared at her.

"It's really quiet strait forward," Hermione jumped in before the siblings could start fighting again. "You know that only a person who has 'seen death' can see Thestrals, correct? Well, in this context, 'death' actually means the moment between being dead and being alive; a doorway, so to speak, between the world of the living and the world of the dead. This 'doorway' is everywhere, but no one can really recognize it until they've watched someone pass through it."

"You mean they've seen someone die," Ron cut in.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, when they have 'seen death'. The physical body of the Thestral exists in this 'doorway,' so they're invisible to anyone who cannot see the 'doorway.' The veil revolves around a similar concept: it's the physical manifestation of the doorway, which is why Harry and Luna can hear the voices and none of the rest of us can."

Ron shook his head. "We have very different ideas of what 'strait forward' means."

Hermione blushed. "Yes, well, did you understand it?"

"I think so, but why do Harry and Luna have to be the ones to go through?"

"Because they'll be able to come back," Hermione explained patiently as she unpacked the equipment. "Unless the person passing through the veil goes willingly, is capable of seeing it, and maintains a tether to the world of the living, he or she will be stuck there forever. Harry and Luna already fulfill two of the requirements, and I've made a tether for them.

"Theoretically, they should be able to not only return, but to bring the Horcrux back with them."

"Wait," Harry cut in, "what do you mean by 'theoretically'?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, practically, there's no way to be certain, but the likelihood that you will be trapped on the other side is low."

"There's still one thing that confuses me," Neville spoke up. "If Voldemort threw his Horcrux into the land of the dead, wouldn't that, well, kill it?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "but the arch doesn't lead to the land of the _dead_, it leads to _death_. Basically, Harry and Luna will be inside that 'doorway' that I told you about. Anything inside is neither alive nor dead, which is why Harry and Luna will be able to return. Ironically, it's very similar to the state in which Voldemort himself has existed since he first removed part of his soul from his body."

"It's also the state in which any person who drinks unicorn blood in order to survive exists," Luna added calmly.

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it again, and blinked. "Luna's right," she said, utterly shocked. Luna just smiled.

"This is all really interesting," Ginny cut in, "but shouldn't we get started before someone decides to check what we're doing?"

"Just a minute," Hermione replied, securing a golden rope to a series of patterns that was floating above the ground. "I'm almost finished." She waved her wand one last time, and the rope and symbols began to glow. "There," she said, standing back to admire her handiwork, "that should hold." She turned to Harry and Luna. "Once you pass through the veil, you'll have to hold onto the rope at all times. If you lose contact with it, there's a good chance it'll disappear. Other than that, there shouldn't be any dangers involved, but," she bit her lip, "be _careful_."

Harry nodded, picked up the glowing rope, gripped Luna's hand, took a deep breath, and stepped through the veil.

* * *

1: I don't own this phrase. Brownie points to whoever guesses where it came from.

POC2: Lots of explanation in this chapter; next chapter gets more adventure-y. Don't forget to review!

R: Do you really think you need to say that?

POC2: Well, it can't hurt.

Next: So, Harry and Luna have passed into death to find the Horcrux, but someone we know has already passed through the veil…

See you in two weeks when we go: Beyond the Veil.


	15. Beyond The Veil

Disclaimer: The most POC2 has ever gotten for writing anything is the $750 essay contest prize. Clearly, she does not own Harry Potter.

POC2: They also gave me $500 to fly to New York for the award lunch. It was pretty cool.

R: No one cares.

POC2: You brought it up.

This chapter gives a pretty unique look into Luna's character. Hopefully she won't seem really OOC…

W: And if she does, the REAL Protectors of Canon will come after you…

POC2: … (raises eyebrow) Right…

* * *

Beyond The Veil

As Harry stepped through the Veil, a strange and oddly pleasant tingling feeling spread throughout his body. He shivered and glanced at Luna.

The blond girl's smile was even more peaceful than usual, and she seemed to be glowing slightly. Looking down at his own hands, Harry saw that they two were surrounded by the same unearthly light. In fact, the entire world had changed.

The floor, ceiling, and walls had all disappeared, and a great emptiness spread in all directions. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, the Veil, and everything else that had been in the Department of Mysteries were nowhere to be found. Harry could still feel and see the tether in his hand, but it did not seem to be connected to anything at all. A strange, swirling, translucent mist filled the enormous void. As Harry watched, the mist coalesced into shapes and figures, solidified, and then dissolved.

Harry's throat felt dry and scratchy. He swallowed, and whispered, "_This_ is death?"

"No," Luna told him, "this is just how we see it."

"What?"

"Harry, we're only human, and we're still alive. Yes, we've seen death, but the fact that we're alive ties us to the world of the Living—that's why we need the tether, so we stay tied to the world of the Living. Death itself is beyond our comprehension, so our brains translate it into something that we can understand.

"Which, of course, is why all the work that the Department of Mysteries claims to be doing must be a cover-up for something else: It's ridiculous. Even if they did manage to glimpse Death, they'd probably go mad before they had a chance to use what they had learned."

Harry stared at her. That made a surprising amount of sense to him, and he was desperately hoping that he had not gone mad himself. "How could you possibly know all that?" he asked.

For a brief moment, a look of intense sorrow crossed Luna's face. "My mother was absolutely fascinated by this sort of thing," she said quietly. "She discovered most of this before, well…" She trailed off.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, staring down at his shoes.

"It's alright," Luna told him, "I've had a long time to learn to accept her death. Besides, I think that, if she had the choice, that's how she would have wanted to die. You know, my uncle later used her research to create an antidote for acromantula poison. She would have liked that."

Harry instinctively knew what to say. "If she could have chosen, I don't think your Mum would have left you at all."

"Thank you," Luna said, "but I already knew that. That's why I can accept the fact that she did. Besides; look around you. We're in the portal between the world of the Living and the world of the Dead. That means that there's an entire world out there where our parents and loved ones are waiting for us. We will see them again, it's only a matter of time.

"That's comforting, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled, "I suppose it is." He glanced down at his feet again. "So, even though we're not standing on anything…"

Luna smiled back at him. "We're not going to fall. Even if we did, there's nothing for us to land on."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Harry muttered.

Luna laughed.

Harry looked around. "So, how do we find anything in all this?"

"Perhaps I could be of assistance?"

Harry spun around to see a very familiar figure. "Nick? Nearly-Headless Nick?"

Unlike the ghost at Hogwarts, this Nick was full of colors: His skin was lightly tanned, his boots black, and his outfit in shades of green and deep blue. He also looked quite solid, though not as solid as Harry and Luna.

"I do wish that _someone_ would call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," Nick sighed. "I _did_ earn my knighthood, and it would be nice if people acknowledged it."

"Er," Harry scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Sorry, I, er, didn't expect to see you here. Didn't you tell me that you couldn't move on?"

"I have not moved on," Nick replied, "and that was not me you spoke to, it was my shadow; what you Living Ones call my ghost.

"When Death called to me, I was afraid. Dying terrified me, and I fought with all my strength and all my magic to avoid it. As a result, my shadow returned to the land of the Living, and I was trapped here in between—neither living nor dying; able neither to move back, nor to move on; incapable of communicating with those who have moved on before or after." He looked at Harry with the pain of centuries in his eyes. "I haven't seen my wife or children in over 400 years," he said in a braking voice, "and I never will until my shadow finds peace and comes back to me. I am damned forever.

"There are fates worse that dying, Harry Potter, and this is one of the worst. Hold on tightly to that tether. If you lose it, you will be as trapped as I am. More so, because you will have no shadow to find peace and set you free."

"Sir Nicholas," Luna asked curiously after a few moments, "if you've been here since you died, how do you know who Harry is?"

In answer, Nick waved his hand, and the mist in front of him parted to show Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Neville waiting in the Department of Mysteries.

"_How long are they going to be?_" Harry heard Ginny ask, her voice oddly distorted.

"_As long as it takes,_" Hermione replied. "_We don't really know what's happening in there. All we know is that they're alright as long as the tether remains…_"

Her words faded away as, with another wave of Nick's hand, the image disappeared.

"Only a thin veil divides us from the world of the Living," Nick explained. "We can see it easily, though we cannot touch it. The world of the Dead is blocked to us completely."

"Erm," Harry bit his lip. "Look, the others are waiting for us, so we really should hurry. You said you could help us…?"

"Yes. Distance means nothing here, so you would be hard-pressed to find anyone of anything. I can lead you around; and, based on what I have seen of you, I think I know what you are searching for. Come." He turned and began to walk.

Harry looked at Luna, shrugged, and followed him, clutching the tether tightly. Several seconds later, Nick stopped and pointed. "There he is."

Harry found himself looking, not at a piece of jewelry, but at a man.

He was sitting cross legged with his long, dark hair pushed back off his face. His handsome face was completely still, and his haunted eyes stared at something in the distance that no one else could see. He looked even less solid than Nick, flickering ever so slightly as if the light were shining right through his body. He did not seem to notice as Harry, Luna, and Nick approached.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Sirius," he whispered, unable to do anything else.

Sirius Black did not respond.

* * *

POC2: Well, hopefully there weren't too many typos. Hope you liked it, and don't forget to review.

Next: Many of you guessed that Sirius would be here, but what's wrong with him? And is there anything Harry, Luna, and Nick can do to help? And poor Nick, will he really be stuck forever?

In two weeks, we'll get the Horcrux (finally!) and some people will go back to the land of the Living.

Find out who in: The Return.


	16. The Return

Disclaimer: Protector of Canon2 has repeatedly pointed out parts of the Harry Potter books that she doesn't really like. Would she do that if she had written them?

POC2: Why not? I've already shown that I have problems with multiple personalities, and _you_ insult my writing all the time.

R: Only when it's bad.

W: Hey, that's MY job!!!

R: (sticks out tongue)

POC2: Some of the concepts in this chapter are a bit confusing. Hopefully they will make sense on paper. (looks down) My chapters seem to be getting shorter. I blame it on the end of school—everything is due at the same time.

* * *

The Return

Harry felt paralyzed. When he had first heard that he would be passing through the veil behind which he had lost his godfather, he had not allowed himself to think about Sirius. He had felt that he'd finally accepted the loss of the closest thing he'd had to a parent, and he was not eager to re-open the wound by hoping to find Sirius and not being able to.

He had not allowed himself to hope, because being wrong would be too painful.

But now Sirius was sitting directly in front of him; impossible to ignore; and not acknowledging his existence.

"Sirius?" he said again. "Sirius, answer me!"

When Sirius still did not move, Harry reached out to put his hand on his godfather's shoulder—and his hand went right through the other's body.

"He's not here in the same way that we are," Nick said sadly. "He doesn't have a link to either world, so he's just sort of floating; lost. We are in both worlds. He is in neither."

"But you—or your shadow, or whatever—told me that Sirius would have moved on!" Harry protested.

"My shadow did not know the circumstances of Sirius Black' 'death,'" Nick explained gently, "nor did he know about this doorway. He could tell you only what he knew. Sirius would not have feared death; he would have moved on. Unfortunately, he did not get that chance."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Luna asked. "If he isn't tied to either world, then shouldn't we be able to pull him back to one of the two?"

Nick shook his head. "Not unless you can give him a tether."

Harry glanced down at the golden rope in his hand. "So, how do I go about giving this to him without losing it myself?"

"You misunderstand," Nick replied, "that isn't your tether; it's simply a representation of sorts. Your real tether is your reason for wanting to return—the task that remain unfinished; the people waiting for you in the world of the Living. It's every single reason that you would rather live than die.

"In Sirius Black's case, he felt useless when he fell through the veil—like there was nothing he could accomplish; nothing left for him to do. For every person he loves who is still alive, there is someone he cares about equally who has already moved on.

"I think—I think he is looking at the world of the Dead. We cannot, because we are tied to the world of the Living, but he has no such tie. He may even be attempting to move on, but that will prove impossible because he never truly died."

"So," Harry summarized, "if we can give him a reason to come back, he'll be able to?"

"Essentially."

Harry dropped to his knees in front of his godfather and stared deep into the unseeing eyes.

"Sirius, Lupin is going to get married to Tonks. If you don't come back, you'll miss the wedding. Don't you want to be there for Lupin's wedding?"

Sirius did not reply.

Luna shook her head sadly. "It's not enough," she said simply.

"Dumbledore's dead, Sirius," Harry said desperately. "Snape killed him. He trusted Snape, and Snape killed him. And Snape was the one who passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort target my parents. My dad saved his life, and he sent Voldemort after my parents."

Sirius's eyes snapped into focus. His entire body began to glow with a golden light which slowly condensed into a rope and wrapped itself around Sirius's wrist. He solidified and took a deep, shuddering breath. His body shook slightly, and he growled, "That _animal_!"

Harry swallowed. "Sirius?"

"Harry, is it true? Did Snape really…?" Harry nodded. "_Where is he_?"

"We're not sure. We think he's with Voldemort. We're working on something right now that'll help us kill Voldemort." Harry turned to Nick. "We came here looking for something that'll help us with that. It used to belong to Ravenclaw—"

Nick gasped. "The clasp!"

"You know where it is?" Luna asked eagerly.

"Yes, I think so… I'll be right back." And he dissolved into mist.

Harry blinked. "Okay, that was weird."

"I think it's related to the lack of distance here," Luna noted.

"Harry, who is she?"

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "This is Luna Lovegood. She was a member of the DA, and she was with us in the Department of Mysteries a year and a half ago. She's working with us to defeat Voldemort.

"Luna, this is my godfather, Sirius Black. Er, you know that article that was in the _Quibbler_ a while back… ?"

"The one about Stubby Boardman? Don't worry, Ginny explained everything to me. There are sometimes article in the _Quibbler_ that aren't completely true. Apparently, this was one of those times."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "It's… nice to meet you Luna."

"It's always a pleasure to meet someone who is beyond the influence of the Umgubular Slashkilter." (1)

Sirius glanced at Harry, who shook his head. "Er, right," Sirius muttered. "Harry, did you say that Remus is going to be married?"

"He and Tonks are engaged. It was a quiet engagement because they didn't want to attract the Death Eater's attention, but…"

For the first time in over a year and a half, Harry saw his godfather smile. "That's wonderful. Good for him."

At that moment, a portion of the mist next to Harry solidified to become Nearly-Headless Nick. In his left hand, Nick was holding a large, bronze clasp with several inlaid sapphires in the shape of an "R."

Sirius frowned. "Everyone here is half-dead, right? So how is Nick holding a hunk of metal and stone?"

"It's not completely inanimate," Nick explained, "there is some sort of life inside of it—a portion of a soul, it seems."

Harry smiled, relieved. "That's what we're looking for."

Luna reached forward and grabbed the clasp. She looked at her hand, an expression of mild shock on her face. "It worked. I suppose it didn't need a tether."

Harry blinked. "I suppose not," he muttered. "Er, the others are waiting for us; we should probably get back."

"Wait," Sirius interrupted. "Nick, I think I was fatally injured before I fell through the veil. Will that be a problem?"

"It shouldn't," Nick answered, "your body has had plenty of time to repair itself."

Sirius frowned. "How does that make sense?"

"Well, I could explain it," Nick replied with a shrug, but you probably still wouldn't understand."

"Fair enough. How do we get back?"

"Follow the tether," Nick said simply. "It may help if you close your eyes."

Feeling extremely foolish, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on returning to the Department of Mysteries."

* * *

1: The Umgubular Slashkilter is canon… or whatever you would call any "creature" that Luna mentions in the text. Check book five, chapter 18.

POC2: We finally got the Horcrux! And it only took us sixteen chapters!

W: Well aren't we brilliant.

POC2: Yes we are. Now stop it with the sarcasm.

R: You called this chapter "The Return," but they didn't return until the way end of the chapter.

POC2: … So? Anyhoo, it's more about Sirius's return.

Next: Harry and Ginny go back to the world of the Living with the Horcrux and Sirius Black in tow. But wait… isn't Sirius considered a mad mass murderer?

POC2: Okay, I have to know if I'm the only one with this issue. If not, I'll feel a lot better.

Let me explain: At last count, 11 people have put this on their favorites list. 17 others have put it on their subscriptions list. As of now, 17 of those people have NEVER LEFT A REVIEW! Most of my other stories have similar situations.

It's not so much the people who read the story and don't review that bother me, but if you're gonna put me on Favorites or Alert…

Seriously, do I attract this type of reader? Or do all authors deal with this and I'm over-reacting?

Okay, done with the rant.


	17. Sirius's New Task

Disclaimer: Even though POC2 left FFN for months, she wasn't doing anything useful like gaining control of Harry Potter, so it's still not hers.

W: Serves her right.

POC2: Excuse me? What do _you_ own?

* * *

Sirius's New Task

"Harry! Luna! You're—Merlin's beard, Sirius?!" Hermione's voice was the first thing that Harry heard as he emerged from beyond the Veil. He opened his eyes. Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny were staring at Sirius, who had just stepped out of the archway behind Harry and Luna.

"Hi," Sirius said with a smile. "I'm back."

"No kidding," Ron managed to sputter as he stared at the man who had just returned from Death.

"How—" Neville swallowed. "How did he…?"

"It's… sort of complicated," Harry said.

"Yes, well, you can explain later," Hermione said, slightly hysterical. "Right now we have to get him out of the Ministry."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

"Harry, he's a convicted murderer!"

Harry swore. "We never cleared his name, did we? We were so busy with everything else that was going on that we let it slide." He glanced at his godfather. "Sorry."

Sirius shrugged. "That's alright. It didn't exactly hurt me."

"Maybe not, but we can't just walk out of here with him," Hermione reminded them, "and someone will get suspicious if we suddenly have an enormous dog with us when we leave."

"'Moine," Ron sighed, "it's not as bad as you're making it sound. Harry has an invisibility cloak, remember?"

Harry felt his face turn red. "Er," he muttered, "would you believe that I forgot it?"

The others stared at him.

"You _what_?!"

"I didn't think of it! I was too busy getting everything that Hermione needed! Besides, why would we need the cloak here?"

Ginny slapped him. "Harry James Potter," she exploded, "how do you expect to survive if you're not prepared for the unexpected? You are to put that cloak in you Unfillable Bag as soon as we get back, and you are to take it with you everywhere you go. Is that understood?"

Harry gulped. "Yes ma'am."

Sirius snickered. "I could just Disapparate," he pointed out.

"To where?" Hermione asked bluntly. "Grimmauld Place isn't our headquarters anymore—it simply isn't safe since the Secret Keeper died—and everywhere else many of us are staying has anti- Apparation wards. So unless you want to try living on the run again…"

"Why don't we try calling Fred and George? "Ginny suggested. "They built many of the wards, so they should be able to get through them, and they're smart enough not to ask too many questions."

Harry smiled. "Gin," he said, "you're a genius."

"Well," she replied, "it's a good thing some of us know how to use our heads, or you men would be hopelessly lost."

Harry chose not to answer that. Instead, he pulled out his Mirror and called Fred Weasley.

"Hello, Illustrious Manager," Fred said as he appeared in the glass, "to what do I owe this unmatched pleasure?"

"Look," Harry said, I don't really have time for a lot of questions. Could you Apparate to the Department of Mysteries? There's an archway with a veil in one of the rooms. We're—"

"We're on our way, O Fearless Leader," the redhead interrupted and, with two small _pops_, the twins appeared in the room. They glanced around the room and did a simultaneous double-take. Recovering quickly, they both ran over to Harry's godfather. "Sirius! So glad to see you alive, mate!"

"You look good for someone who's been dead the past year-and-a-half."

"However did you manage it?"

"We'll explain later," Harry jumped in before they could really get started. "Right now, you need to get him out of the Ministry before he's arrested."

"Oh, wait," Ro said suddenly. "Maybe they should take the locket with them so that we don't have to deal with awkward questions about what it is."

Harry nodded. "Good idea."

"Right," Fred said briskly, "then it's settled. We'll meet you at the Hollow. Come on, Sirius, we'll show you our joke shop before the final stop."

* * *

When the Skifflemont Six returned to Godric's Hollow, Fred, George, Sirius, and Fawny were waiting for them.

"Harry," Sirius said as soon as they entered the room, "is this true? Does the locket really contain a piece of Voldemort's soul?"

Harry looked sharply at George, who shrugged apologetically. "We told him what's really going on. Sorry; we didn't think you'd mind."

Harry sighed. "You probably should have asked me first, but I think we can trust Sirius."

"Besides," Ron pointed out, "we just pulled him out of the Veil, so I doubt he's a Death Eater in disguise."

"He couldn't be," George replied, completely serious. "Our wards won't let anyone through who has the Dark Mark, and they warn us if anyone is using Polyjuice Potion or glamour spells, or if they're a Metamorphmagus."

"Incidentally, Ginny," Fred cut in, "you really shouldn't wear so much of that magical makeup. I think Harry likes you just fine without it, and you look like you're trying to be Celestina Warbeck."

Ginny blushed and slapped him.

"I rather like it," Luna commented idly, "those shades bring out her best features quite nicely."

"Maybe," Ron muttered darkly, "but I still think she wears too much."

"Yes, but you're her brother," Neville pointed out. "You're biased. The only boy whose opinion really matters is Harry, and I don't think he's complaining."

Sirius looked at Fred, Luna, Ron, and Neville, then at Ginny and Harry, who were equally red, and grinned. "Nice one, Harry," he said. "Potter boys always get the best girls."

"Oh really," Hermione exploded, "as fascinating as this conversation is, don't we have a job to finish?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed, "let's take care of the Horcrux instead of arguing about how much makeup I wear!"

"Right." Still blushing, Harry turned to Fawny. "This is a Horcrux, right? We didn't pick up another dud, did we?"

"Yes," Fawny replied, "it is being a Horcrux."

"Harry," Sirius asked, "why are you asking Fawny? How could she possibly know?"

"Dumbledore taught her," Harry explained shortly.

Sirius considered that and shrugged. "That makes sense." He turned to Fawny. "I always assumed that you were killed when Lily and James were. I'm glad to see that I was wrong."

"Fawny is also glad that Master Sirius is surviving," she replied respectfully. "Fawny is missing you after she is losing her master and mistress."

Sirius smiled wryly. "Yes," he said, "I'm glad to be alive." He rubbed his hands together and glanced around the room. "So," he said, "how do we destroy this thing?"

The Skifflemont Six all immediately fell uncomfortably silent.

Sirius looked around. "Harry? You do know how, right?"

"You have to use Avada Kedavra," Harry said quietly, "and to do that you have to hate the person so much that you not only want to see them dead, you want to kill them personally, and…" (1)

"And you don't want to believe yourself capable of such hatred, even towards Voldemort," Sirius finished.

"And it's not even Voldemort," Harry burst out. "It's a piece of jewelry! I know it has part of Voldemort's soul in it, but how do you hate a pile of metal and stone?"

Sirius looked around the room one more time and shrugged. "Alright," he said calmly, "I'll do it."

"Sirius, are you sure…"

"How hard can it be?" Sirius asked grimly, standing and rolling back his sleeves, "I'll just pretend that it's Wormtail." He took a deep breath, pointed his wand at the Horcrux, and roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a flash of green. A deep crack appeared in clasp. A sharp, inhuman scream filled the room, getting shriller and shriller until it was suddenly cut off. Then there was only silence.

For several seconds, no one moved.

Then Neville spoke up hesitantly. "Is it… done?" he asked.

Fawny nodded. "It is no longer being a Horcrux. The piece of soul is dead."

"Well," Fred said, "this was absolutely fascinating, and it was wonderful to see you again, but our assistant is on her break, so George and I really need to get back and re-open the shop."

"Sirius, we were overjoyed to see you alive, and you'll have to stop by next time you're in Diagon Alley to get that tour we promised you."

"And, Harry, don't forget to let us know if you need anything."

"Tata!"

And they Disapparated.

"Ah, Harry," Sirius said after a moment, "is that the couch from my parent's old house?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said. "When my parent's house was destroyed, so were all their things. You left Grimmauld Place to me, and no one was using the furniture, so… We can move it back if you want."

"No," Sirius said, "I'm glad you've found a use for it. I don't exactly want to live in that haunted house."

"If master is permitting, Fawny will prepare a room for Master Sirius," Fawny suggested.

"Yeah, sure, good idea. How about—"

"No," Sirius interrupted. "Thanks for the offer, but I can't stay here."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I have a job to do," Sirius said grimly. "Snape murdered Lily, James, and Dumbledore, and I'm not going to rest until he's been punished for that. I'll go see Remus and a few others to let them know I'm alive, and then I'll start searching." (2)

"Snape was at Grimmauld Place a week ago," Hermione offered. "We think he was looking for information on the Horcruxes."

Sirius nodded. "I'll consider that. Harry, do you still have that Two-Way Mirror I gave you?"

"Er," Harry said awkwardly, "I sort of broke it when I thought you were dead. Sorry."

"You could try talking to the twins," Ginny jumped in. "They've invented a sort of adaptation of the Two-Way Mirror for larger groups of people, and they can probably add you to our network."

Sirius thanked her and turned to Harry. "You know you can call me anytime, right?"

Harry nodded.

With a final nod goodbye, Sirius transformed into a dog and ran out the door.

After a few moments, Harry spoke up. "This may sound stupid, but what exactly is the difference between magical makeup and the stuff muggles use?" He asked.

"Well," Ginny said, "for one thing, it's a lot easier to get on and off."

"And you can change the color if necessary, which is quite useful," Luna added.

"It'll stay on for weeks unless you remove it, and some types have spells built in to attract attention or hide flaws," Ginny finished.

"'Mione," Ron said, "are you alright? Harry asked for something to be explained, and you didn't say anything."

"Oh, it's just—did I do the right thing?"

"Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"When I told Sirius where we saw Snape," she clarified. "Did I do the right thing? Should I have tried to stop him from going?"

Harry gave her an odd look. "Hermione, he's an adult. He's perfectly capable of thinking for himself."

"Is he?" Hermione asked. "Is he really? Think about it:

"He grew up with parents who he disagreed with about everything, and he always knew that they didn't like them. He probably didn't have any friends until he met your father when he was eleven.

"He was only a little bit older than we are now when he first joined the Order, and he almost immediately began watching as the other members died around him. Then, not very long after he turned twenty, he made a decision that led to the death of his best friend and his best friend's wife."

"But it wasn't his fault," Harry interrupted.

"I don't blame him," Hermione said. "You don't blame him. Lupin doesn't blame him. Your parents probably wouldn't blame him. That doesn't stop him from blaming himself.

"Anyway, he attempts to track down the man whom he, and he alone, knows sold out Lily and James, a man who he trusted with everything. That man escapes, but not before framing him for the murder.

"He's is thrown into Azkaban without even a mock-trail and the Dementors immediately begin to work on him. He survives by holding on to the thought that he was wrongfully accused, which isn't exactly cheerful. After twelve years of this, he sees a picture of the man who he blames for everything that has gone wrong in his life. He is so consumed with thoughts of revenge that he is able to escape.

"He spends the next year alone, hiding out as an animal and attempting to locate both the man who killed his best friend and his best friend's son.

"Finally, he has it all in his grasp—he has captured Wormtail and is bringing him in, in an action that will both ensure that Wormtail is punished for his crimes and prove Sirius's innocence, and he has found his godson, who he likes quite a bit. Then, because of some bad timing and even worse luck, he loses it all. He narrowly escapes the Dementor's Kiss and is forced once again to flee for his life.

"He spends the next year on the run, homeless and always looking over his shoulder, and this is actually an improvement on the previous thirteen years.

"Then Voldemort returns, and he does so by nearly killing you with Wormtail's help. And Sirius can do nothing.

"He doesn't want to be useless, so he offers his parent's old house as a headquarters. Of course, this means that he has to stay in this house, which holds many horrible memories, indefinitely.

"One year of helplessness and inability to do anything he considers useful later, you are in danger. Sirius rushes to your rescue, probably as eager to get out of the house as to help you. He should have died then, but he was instead thrown into a land between life and death, where he remained for a year and a half.

"Finally, he gets out, and what's the first thing he does? He starts looking for revenge.

"So many horrible things have happened to him, and he's never had a chance to come to terms with any of them. I think we should be asking if it's really a good idea for him to be out looking for Snape with no one to stop him from doing anything stupid." (3)

"Are you saying that Sirius is a nut?" Harry asked angrily.

"No!" Hermione replied. "But how do we know that he's not planning some sort of suicide mission?"

"Look," Neville interjected, "there's not very much we can do right now. Maybe we should sleep on it and discus this tomorrow when we're all a little bit calmer."

"Fine," Harry replied, and he stormed up to his room.

* * *

1: Okay, I'll admit, I changed this slightly. It was pointed out to me that the Skifflemont Six are probably going to have to come to terms with killing if they're going to be part of a war and, since there are other spells that kill, I needed a reason why this one is "Unforgivable," so I added the thing about wanting to kill the victim personally. I also changed it back in chapter 13.

2: Before you say anything; yes, I know Sirius does not call Snape by his really name, but I have a reason for this: "Snivellus" is a childish insult, a nickname for someone you've disliked since childhood. It's not a nickname for a murderer.

It's the same reason he only uses "Wormtail" to refer to Peter. Peter was the boy who always hero-worshiped Sirius and James. Wormtail is the man who helped murder a man who trusted him with everything. Similarly, Snivellus was the annoying boy at school who seemed to like the Dark Arts a bit too much, while Snape is the murderer who destroyed Sirius's life.

Hopefully that clears things up.

3: First, the ages are fairly approximate and based on the assumption that Sirius is now in his thirties. Second, this psychoanalysis is an interesting medley of my thoughts on Sirius's character and what I think Hermione would think, so, while I'm happy to hear any other views on his characters, please don't send me anything that sounds like: "You idiot! How could you write that? That is the exact opposite of who Sirius is! How can you call yourself a fan? Ect."

Next: So Sirius is off to take on the world single-handedly. Again. What could possibly go wrong?

But our heroes have a shock in store because next chapter there will be a: Murder at Azkaban.


	18. Murder At Azkaban

Disclaimer: If Protector of Canon 2 ever becomes capable of keeping to a schedule, she may someday become a published author. But don't count on it.

POC2: I will too be a published author someday!

R: Not if you can't meet a deadline.

POC2: Yeah, well…. You're mean!

* * *

Chapter 18: Murder at Azkaban

Hermione ran downstairs the next day while the others were eating breakfast.

"Harry," she called, waving a copy of the Daily Prophet, "Harry, you have to read this!"

Ginny frowned. "How did you get a copy of the Daily Prophet here?" she asked. "Owls can't get in, can they?"

"Fred and George get it and send it to me using a transportation system they designed," Hermione explained, "but that's not the point. Read this!"

"No one died, did they?" Harry asked fearfully.

"Yes," Hermione said, "but not one of our friends. It—oh, will you just read the article?" And she shoved the paper into Harry's hands. The paper was open to the first page, and the headline screamed, "Azkaban Break-In."

"Break-_In­_?" Ron repeated. "Why would anyone want to break _in_?"

"Just read it," Hermione said, so Harry began to read out loud:

"_Often it has been said—and recently it has been disproved—that no one can break out of Azkaban. But what about breaking in?_

"_This question was answered last night as several Death Eaters entered the prison and killed a number of prisoners. The prisoners were all confirmed Death Eaters captured on a failed attack on the Ministry two years ago, which raises many questions about the purpose of the mission._

"_The attack also throws doubt on the quality of the security at Azkaban prison. It has been confirmed that the Dementors who once guarded the Wizard Prison have joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and many wonder whether the Ministry will be able to secure its prisoners given this fact._

"_The Ministry declined to comment, [cont. on page 2]._"

"The rest of the article is about the security at Azkaban, which we already knew has been falling apart since they lost the Dementors," Hermione said before Harry could turn the page. "What's important is what you just read: Voldemort is killing his own Death Eaters."

"Good riddance," Ron said. "That's less Death Eaters for us to fight, and while he's concentrating on killing them he's _not_ concentrating on killing us or anyone we care about."

"Ron," Hermione said, shocked, "those were people's family!"

"And they killed other people's family," Neville said coldly. "I have to agree with Ron here. Save your pity for people who deserve it. Besides, maybe some of the Death Eaters will leave Voldemort if they see that he's willing to kill them."

"No," Hermione said grimly, "they won't. They're too scared that whatever Voldemort does to them for deserting will be worse. And it will be. Once they've joined, no Death Eater will dare to leave."

"One might," Harry said. "Draco Malfoy. I think Dumbledore almost had him convinced to leave that night on the tower before the other Death Eaters turned up. It sounded like he was only staying to protect his parents from Voldemort. But if Voldemort kills his parents anyway…"

"What I want to know," Neville added, "is why. Why would Voldemort do this?"

"Since when has Voldemort needed a reason to kill?" Ginny pointed out.

"He has reasons," Neville said. "Just because they're not _good_ reasons or reason that would make sense to someone who is sane doesn't mean that he does not have reasons. Besides, why now? If he wanted to kill them because they didn't retrieve the prophesy, why wait over a year?"

"Maybe Voldemort's punishing Malfoy for not being the one to kill Voldemort," Harry suggested.

"Again," Neville said, "why now? Why not at the beginning of the summer?"

"Maybe he just found out that Snape was the one who cast the curse?"

"But why kill the others? Why not just Luscious Malfoy?"

"Because he felt like it?"

"Maybe he was making a statement," Hermione suggested. "Something like, 'We can get into anywhere, even Azkaban, and we're so powerful that we can afford to kill our own people. Also, if any Death Eater fails, we will find them no matter where they are.' Maybe he's trying to scare people."

"If that's his goal, he succeeded," Ron said.

"Do you think it's true," Ginny asked, "or is he just bluffing?"

"I hope he's bluffing," Hermione said grimly, "but I don't think he is. Voldemort has never put much value on the lives of his followers, and he has the Dementors and giants as well as the Death Eaters. Regardless, we should hurry. All our work will mean nothing if the wizarding world is too demoralized to defy the Death Eaters even after we defeat Voldemort."

Harry nodded. "Hermione, get the scrolls."

* * *

"Dumbledore took care of the ring, and we know Nagini stays near Voldemort, so we'll have to kill Nagini last. That leaves Hufflepuff's cup." Hermione picked up the scroll that would direct them to the instructions that they needed. She read it and then handed it wordlessly to Harry.

"Search Salazar's Stronghold," Harry read. "Does that mean anything to any of you?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "The Order is almost positive that the Death Eaters are using Salazar's Stronghold as a base of operations. We couldn't possibly get in to search it."

"So it's a dead end," Neville said glumly. "We're on our own."

"Not entirely," Luna reminded them. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore teach Harry how to find Horcruxes?"

Hermione gasped. "She's right! While Dumbledore taught Fawny how to recognize and destroy Horcruxes, he was teaching Harry how to find them. _That's_ what the lessons were about. He _was _preparing in case he died."

Harry took a deep breath. "Right," he said, "the locket was where he terrorized his first victims; the ring was at the house where his mother grew up and where he stole it from his uncle, which was right near where he killed his father and grandparents; and the clasp was behind the veil, which symbolized immortality, his goal since he was a student. Logically, the cup would also be somewhere important to his history. Maybe Hogwarts? He considered that his home for years."

"But the Chamber was in Hogwarts, so the Diary symbolized that part of his life," Hermione pointed out. "His mother's house is where he came from. The cave is his life before Hogwarts. The Chamber is his life as a student. Nagini is his time as a Dark Lord, and the Veil is his ultimate goal. The hiding place of the final Horcrux must symbolize the time after he left Hogwarts, but before he really gained power."

Harry frowned. "He wouldn't have put it in Borgin and Burkes," he mused, "because someone might notice...

"Give me until tomorrow to go over it," he requested. "I'll let you know then."

* * *

POC2: Well? Was it worth the wait? Remember, reviews are also a good way to scream at me for disappearing for so long.

R: Only you, Protector of Canon 2, only you. Hey, that rhymes!

POC2: Only you, Randomly, only you.

Next: The search for the Horcruxes is interrupted (again) by a message from Colin Creevey.

See you in two weeks when the Skifflemont Six find out about: The Good Slytherins.


	19. The Good Slytherins

POC2: One of the things that has always bugged me about the Harry Potter books is the roles of the Slytherin as the House of the villains. Yes, some of the House traits are traits that would cause someone to be drawn to evil, but that doesn't mean that they're all evil. And not all evil wizards are Slytherins. Or has everybody forgotten that Wormtail exists?

Disclaimer: Thus, if POC2 owned Harry Potter, that line of Hagrid's in book 1 would have been different. Can we move on now?

POC2: Fine.

* * *

The Good Slytherins

"Okay," Harry said the next morning, "I've been going over what Dumbledore taught me, and I can't seem to figure out what I'm missing. I think the best thing to do would be to go over everything. Maybe one of you will catch what I missed. So, Voldemort's mother—"

"Harry Potter!" Harry started and pulled out his mirror.

"Colin?" He said, "What do you need?"

"Denis has been watching the Slytherins like you asked, and we've found some information you may want."

"Go on," Harry prompted.

"Not all Slytherins are supporters of You-Know-Who."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about," he asked. "Why would they be in Slytherin if they didn't believe what Voldemort preaches?"

"I didn't say that they don't believe it," Colin clarified, "only that they don't support him. See, the vast majority of the Slytherins have family who are Death Eaters, but most of the ones who actually came to Hogwarts this year don't want to be Death Eaters when they graduate. Some of them believe in the Wizard and Pureblood supremacy but think You-Know-Who's methods are too extreme, some don't really care, and some of them actually respect muggle-borns. There's even one who has a crush on a muggle-born student in Gryffindor but is afraid to ask her out. He thinks she'll laugh at him because he's in Slytherin." (1)

Behind Harry, Ron tried and failed to stifle a snicker.

"Wait," Harry said, "you said _most_ Slytherins don't want to be Death Eaters, right? What about the others?"

"Well," Colin explained, "some of the students who don't want to be Death Eaters think that they will be anyways because You-Know-Who will kill them if they don't join him. On the other hand, there is a group who genuinely want to join You-Know-who, whether it's because they hate muggle-borns, or they just want power, or whatever. Most of them are just "Death Eaters-in-training," but some of the Seventh-Years actually have Dark Marks. They meet most days after the other students have gone to bed. Unfortunately, they really know very little. They're spies. They watch what's going on at Hogwarts, and they have some way of telling their parents. Sorry that it's not more helpful, but…"

"Actually," Ron cut in, "it's very helpful. If we know who the spies are, then we can pass whatever false information we want. For know, just let them overhear you talking about how strong we are and how confident we are. Make it seem like we're stronger and more confident then we actually are, and get the Death Eaters used to "overhearing" information from us. Just make sure not to tell them too much about who's in the DA."

"Did you get all that?" Harry asked. Colin nodded. "Good. I think I want you to be in charge of organizing the DA at Hogwarts." He looked at the other members of the Skifflemont Six. "I think that's everything, right?"

"Not quite," Hermione said. "Colin told us that the spies talk after the other Slytherins go to sleep. How late is Denis staying up to listen to them? And when does he find time for his homework?"

"You don't have to worry about that," Colin assured her. "Denis figured out pretty early on that he wouldn't be able to listen every time there were people talking in the Slytherin common room. So we called the Weasley twins. They gave us this cool thing that listens for us and then tells us what was whenever we have time to listen."

"You mean a recording device?"

Colin shrugged. "I guess so." (2)

"But won't the house-elves find it?" Harry asked.

"We have it under control," Colin assured him. "The day after we discovered the passage, this weird elf—he was wearing clothes!—named Dibby or something—"

"Dobby?"

"Yeah, that was it. Anyways, this Dobby turns up and tells us that he's found a way to be the only one who cleans the Slytherin common room, so we can leave whatever we want in the passage, and no one will ever know."

Ron whistled. "You know Harry, freeing that elf may have been one of the best decisions you ever made."

"It was also the _right thing to do_," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Ron admitted, "but from a purely strategic point of view… I mean, ever since he got over his tendency to nearly kill you, he's been really helpful."

"And _of course_ that's the only reason Harry would help someone," Hermione said sarcastically.

"That's not what I said, 'Mione!"

"Well, it's certainly what it sounded like!"

"Maybe the problem is how you're listening, not what I'm saying!"

"Yes, well—"

"Ron! Hermione! Stop flirting!" Ginny demanded. "We have important things to take care of."

The two immediately turned bright pink and stopped bickering. "Flirting?" Hermione sputtered.

"Well," Ginny said calmly, "aren't you?"

"Well," Hermione replied, "I—I—flirting?"

Hermione just smirked.

"Er, guys," Colin called, "I have to go to class soon…"

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Guys? Is there anything else, or can Colin go?"

"I have one question," Neville said. "How did the Death Eaters react to what happened at Azkaban?"

Colin frowned. "They… didn't," he said uncertainly. "Not really. I mean, they kinda mentioned it, but none of them seemed to care. They gloated about how not even Azkaban can keep the Dark Lord out, but they didn't seem to care that…"

"That Voldemort had just killed several of his followers and that they might be next if they ever displeased him?" Harry finished.

Colin nodded.

Harry sighed. "Well, I guess Hermione was right. Thanks for this, Colin. We'll let you know if we need anything else."

"Okay," Colin said. "Bye."

"They didn't _care_?" Neville said incredulously when Colin was gone. "It's not just that they were too scared to leave; they didn't _care_?!"

"They're already used to the idea that Voldemort may kill or torture them on a whim," Hermione explained grimly. "To us it's insane, but to them it's just the way things are. They're too jaded to be shocked. That's why Voldemort is so powerful. He can make any ridiculous demand, and his followers will simply accept it."

Ginny frowned. "Isn't there anything—"

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!

A loud, deep sound flooded the room. Harry's very bones seemed to be vibrating.

"Harry," Hermione gasped, "that's the border alarm! Someone's trying to get in!"

* * *

1: If anybody wants to write the story of a romance between a Slytherin and a muggle-born Gryffindor, I'd probably read it. You'd have to let me know, because I'm not usually in the Harry Potter section, but I think that could be a cool story.

2: I love the concept of Fred and George getting ideas from muggles. Don't you?

POC2: Oooh, action. Possibly. Well, we'll have action soon.

Next: The Skifflemont Six find out that they have a hidden ally. Who is it? Hard to tell.

But you'll get a hint in two weeks, with: The Return of RAB


	20. The Return of RAB

* * *

POC2: Hi, guys. Happy post-Thanksgiving. Don't you love long weekends?

W: (grins in anticipation) Oh, yes.

Disclaimer: POC2 does not own Harry Potter; she's just slightly obsessed with it. Actually, she's slightly obsessed with a lot of things, and she owns none of them.

* * *

The Return of RAB

Wands drawn, nerves tense, a curse or jinx on the tip of each of their tongues, the Skifflemont Six spilled out of the house to find… nothing.

No one was there. Except for a soft, green glow where someone had pushed against the ward, there was nothing out of place; no indication that there had been anyone there who shouldn't be.

"Who's there?" Harry called.

There was no reply.

"We know you're out there," he continued, "show yourself!"

Still, there was only silence.

"I don't think anyone's out here," Hermione said after a few moments. "He must have fled when he realized that he couldn't get in."

Her wand still raised, Ginny crept up to the glowing section of the ward. "Harry," she called, "there's something on the ground outside. It looks like a scroll. Should I get it?"

Harry shook his head. "It could be a trap. For all we know, it's a portkey. Best not to touch it."

"But what if it's important?" Neville protested. "Whoever was trying to get in may have dropped it. It could give us a hint about who it was."

"And it could just as easily have been deliberately planted," Harry said firmly. "I'm not taking that chance. Remember that cursed necklace last year?"

"Actually," Hermione suggested, "perhaps we should send Fawny. One of the unique abilities of the house-elf is to sense magic. If there are any dangerous spells on the scroll, she'll know."

Harry considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Fawny," he called.

Fawny appeared by his side. "Yes, Master Harry?" she squeaked.

"Do you see that scroll?" Harry asked. Fawny nodded. "I want you to bring it to me," Harry instructed, "but before you do, I want you to check it for spells. If there are any spells on it, no matter how innocent they seem, don't touch it. Do you understand?"

Fawny nodded. "Yes, Master Harry." She slipped through the ward and scampered down to the scroll. She reached out, picked it up, and… nothing happened. Harry released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Fawny turned back and carried the scroll to him.

Glancing at the others, Harry unrolled the scroll and looked at it. His eyes were immediately drawn to the bottom of the page.

"It's from RAB," he announced.

"It _seems_ to be from RAB," Hermione corrected. "We won't know for sure until we compare it to the scrolls we already have."

"Well then," Ginny said, "let's go compare them."

* * *

"It's from RAB," Hermione confirmed, "Though how it got outside is a mystery."

"The mystery's not so much _how_," Ron clarified, "as it is _who_. This isn't the sort of thing someone would carry around and just drop somewhere, so it was probably left for us to find. But who left it?"

"And why leave it?" Neville added. "Why not just give it to us?"

Maybe he didn't think we'd follow it if we knew who'd brought it," Ginny suggested, "Or she," she added, rolling her eyes.

"And we'd be more likely to read it if we had no idea where it came from?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Well, yeah," Ginny said. "We picked it up, didn't we? We looked at the signature, didn't we?

"Since we didn't know where it came from, we were curious. We looked at it and found that it was written by RAB, who we trust. If we knew that it was from, like, Umbridge, or Fudge, we'd probably just burn it."

"Wait," Neville said, "you think it may have been _Umbridge_?!"

Ginny groaned. "It was just an _example_!"

Hermione, meanwhile, had been reading the scroll. "Guys," she said, "this is about the cup!"

Ron frowned. "But that scroll was…"

"Five galleons says it was a Death Eater," Harry said grimly. "That would explain why he didn't want us to know who he was."

"Well," Luna pointed out, "we still don't know who left it. It was probably a Death Eater who wants Voldemort dead."

"I don't buy it," Harry said firmly. "Last time we trusted a Death Eater, Dumbledore died."

"What choice do we have?" Hermione shot back. "Yes, it was probably left by a Death Eater. So what? We've seen numerous times that we can trust RAB. Besides, wasn't there a spell on the scroll making it illegible to anyone who didn't want Voldemort stopped? And if we don't follow these instructions, what will we do? We have to find the Horcruxes, and every moment we delay decreases our chances of success."

"Maybe we can figure out who left it," Neville suggested. "I mean, it had to be someone who knows that we're at Godric's Hollow, but isn't in the DA. They have access to Voldemort's stronghold and they know, or at least suspect, that we're after the Horcruxes, and we wouldn't be inclined to trust them. There can't be _that_ many people who fill all those criteria."

"As far as I know," Ginny said, "there isn't anyone."

"Maybe RAB is a Death Eater who has some way of tracking the scrolls," Luna suggested. "Or maybe one of the RABs is."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You're not still going on about that, are you? RAB is not three people."

"Actually," Harry said thoughtfully, "the theory makes sense. So far, every Horcrux has needed at least to people to collect it. If RAB is only one person, he must have been working with someone when he went after the locket."

"Maybe if we _read_ the scroll, we'll find out more," suggested Ginny.

"She has a point," Ron commented dryly.

"Alright," Hermione said, "but there's not much here."

_I have discovered that the cup is hidden underneath the house once owned by a woman named Hepzibah Smith. Unfortunately, I have been unable to learn anything about the protective measures surrounding it. I will set out shortly and attempt to retrieve the Horcrux. If I do not replace this with a more detailed scroll or with the destroyed Horcrux, I have probably died in the attempt._

_I pray you will have more luck than I._

_RAB_

"Well," Neville said after a few moments of silence, "that was… optimistic."

"Harry," Hermione asked, "does the placement make sense?"

"I think so," Harry said. "He met Hepzibah during the period in his life between when he graduated Hogwarts and when he truly became Voldemort, and he stole the cup from her. Also, I think she was his first direct, casual murder. Myrtle he killed indirectly, almost accidentally, and he was taking revenge on his father and grandparents, but he killed Smith simply because she had something that he wanted. It was a pretty significant step for him."

"Okay," Ron said, "now we have to decide whether to go to this house."

Harry gave him a Look. "Of course we're going. How could we not?"

"But it came from Salazar's Stronghold—"

"Haven't we already been over this?" Luna asked mildly. "We decided that we didn't have a choice."

Ron frowned. "Fine," he said, "but we're not going to charge in blindly. There's too much of a chance that it's a trap. Give me a week, then we'll go."

* * *

POC2: Okay, now we run into a very frustrating situation. You see, I write my stories from either end. That means that many of the scenes after Chapter 21 have been in my head since before I posted Chapter 1. But Chapter 21 itself contains a bunch of things that I have _not_ yet planned out; specifically, all the defenses around the Horcrux. I know one, but I need a lot more, and I have no idea what they will be.

In short, I'm anticipating writer's block. The next chapter may not be up for a while. After that; however, we should fly through the story.

So, when we return, the Skifflemont Six will go after the last Horcrux that must be destroyed before they can face Voldemort. (Remember, Nagini stays with his master.) When will we return? Well, that's a good question…


	21. Preparations

W: This story can drink now!! I wonder if that's going to affect the plot…

POC2: Hi Guys! I'm back! That wasn't so bad, was it? I mean, the absence that I warned you about was significantly shorter than the absence when I just kind of disappeared…

Though I'm not sure that's a good thing…

Besides, this is a pretty long chapter. Anyhoo, Randomly?

Disclaimer: People, this is chapter _twenty-one_. If you still haven't realized that POC2 doesn't own Harry Potter, there's something wrong with you.

POC2: Randomly! No insulting the reader's intelligence!

R: Hey, do you want me to go on strike again?

POC2: Oh god no.

R: Then I'll do what I want.

POC2: But… but… grr.

So, I'm not sure how long that horizontal ruler thing has been there (probably a really long time) but I just noticed it. From now on, that's what I'm using.

* * *

Preparations

"It's been three days, Ron," Harry said, "are you almost ready?"

"You gave me a week," Ron reminded him. "I still have four days left, and I plan to use them."

"I still don't understand why you need this week," Hermione noted. "We _are_ being careful even without it. Besides, you haven't explained why you think one of our enemies would give us the information we need to find the Horcrux."

"There are too many coincidences," Ron insisted, "starting with the first scroll we found from RAB.

"Seriously: Fawny just _happens_ to be at Grimmauld Place at the same time as Snape is. Snape searches Regulus Black's room, and tears everything to pieces, but he just _happens_ to miss exactly what we're looking for, and he just _happens_ to destroy the floorboards concealing it. If I was playing chess against an opponent as intelligent as Snape, and he handed me exactly what I needed like this, I'd immediately know that he was trapping me.

"And the coincidences don't end there. The scroll just _happens_ to be in Regulus's room, even though he isn't RAB. Then, when we run out of clues about the cup, _that_ scroll, which just _happens_ to have been where no one but a Death Eater could possibly collect it, just _happens_ to turn up on our doorstep!

"It's working out too well."

"Ron," Hermione said, "I think you're overthinking this. Yes, it was a coincidence that Fawny and Snape were at Grimmauld Place at the same time, but everything else?

"Snape didn't find the scroll because he saw or heard Fawny and fled, and because the picture was on top of it. He destroyed nearly everything in the room, not just that floorboard."

"But wouldn't he hear the floorboard break? And why didn't he look under the picture after it fell?"

"Perhaps his search was making too much noise," Hermione suggested, "and perhaps he intended to check under the floorboard, but he ran out of time because he heard or saw Fawny.

"Besides," she continued, "you seem to be assuming that Snape was looking for the Horcrux. How do you know that? According to RAB, no true Death Eater should even be able to read the scroll."

"He'd probably recognize the locket," Ron pointed out, "wouldn't he?"

"Maybe," Hermione conceded, "_If _he was looking for a Horcrux. But how would he know that Voldemort made Horcruxes? I doubt Voldemort publicized the fact, even among his Death Eaters."

"_Especially _among his Death Eaters," Harry agreed. "He doesn't exactly trust any of them."

"Why else would Snape be at Grimmauld place?" Ron countered.

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. "He was in and out a lot last year and the year before," she pointed out. "Maybe he forgot something during one of his visits."

"Or," Hermione added, "maybe he was looking for any powerful Dark Objects that we may have missed."

"I still think that there are too many coincidences," Ron insisted. "This has all been too easy."

"Coincidences do happen," Neville said. "Just because we've been lucky, that doesn't mean we're being manipulated."

"Besides," Luna said, "remember the robes Harry wore to your brother's wedding? The twinkletellers have probably been following him around ever since." (1)

Ron chose to ignore her. "Fine," he conceded, "It's possible that we just got really, really lucky, but I don't think so. I'm not taking any chances."

"Fine," Harry said. "Whatever. You have four more days."

* * *

Ron only needed two.

"Okay," he said once all the members of the Skifflemont Six had gathered, "if this isn't a trap, and we do manage to destroy the Horcrux, I think it would be best to go after Voldemort immediately, so that if he realizes what we've done, he won't have time to react. So I contacted everyone in the DA, and I had Fred and George contact the Order, and they'll be standing by. We can call them if something goes wrong or, if we don't have any trouble, we'll call them after we destroy the Horcrux and they'll meet us at Salazar's Stronghold.

"If we run into any Death Eaters—if Voldemort put any guards around the Horcrux or something—and we don't have time to call for help, to here's what we'll do…"

* * *

"This is Smith's house?" Ron asked. "I thought she was rich."

Harry could understand why Ron was confused; the building in question looked more like a haunted house than anything, though at some point it had probably been an impressive mansion.

"She _was_ rich," Hermione said, "but she died fifty years ago. Apparently her family didn't put a great deal of effort into taking care of her house after her death."

"Her House Elf was framed for her murder," Ginny pointed out, "so she probably wouldn't have worked after that. The family may have decided that taking care of the house without an Elf was too much trouble."

Hermione muttered something about lazy wizards who are far too dependant on their slaves, then she said, "That's possible, but it doesn't really matter _why_ they abandoned the house, only that they did."

"So," Neville said, "where do you think we should start looking?"

"It should be below the house, right?" Harry said. "Isn't that what RAB wrote? Maybe there's a basement?"

Ron shrugged. "It's worth a try."

Harry took a deep breath and led the others as, wands drawn and ready, they approached the front door.

"You know," Ron joked, "this could be great practice for when we're all Aurors someday."

Ginny snorted. "I don't know about you," she said, "but when this is over I think I'll have had enough of hunting down Dark objects to last a lifetime."

When they reached the door, Harry grabbed the doorknob. It turned easily, and the door creaked open.

"Here goes nothing," Harry muttered, and the Skifflemont Six walked into the house.

"We're looking for a staircase going down," Ginny said, "right? Do you think we should split up and search?"

"No," Ron said, "we definitely want to stay together."

"Well," Hermione said, "I suppose we should start to. Don't forget to check behind the doors; the staircase may not be in plain sight."

"Right," Harry muttered. He began to walk carefully down the hallway, opening each door, flanked on either side by his friends.

The first door led to a closet. Harry closed it and moved on.

The next door opened to reveal a bathroom.

The next led to a cupboard, then a small bedroom. There were no other doors leading out of the bedroom, so they moved on.

The next door was concealing a staircase.

"I suppose this is it," Harry said. "Down we go."

The Skifflemont Six walked slowly and carefully down the staircase, expecting at any moment to face the first trap. Every step they took without facing opposition, they became more nervous. Surely this couldn't last forever. Surely there would be a trap coming… some trick soon… but they reached the bottom of the stairs without any trouble.

"This can't be right," Ginny said, half to herself.

Harry half-turned to look at her. "Huh?"

"This place," Ginny elaborated. "This path. There's no was Voldemort would hide part of his soul here without any protection."

"Unless that's what he wants us to think," Hermione suggested.

"Will you _please_ stop talking in riddles?" Ron requested tersely.

"Sorry," Hermione said. The Skifflemont Six had reached the bottom of the stairs and were standing in front of yet another door. "What I meant," she elaborated, "is that Voldemort may have not wanted to draw attention to all this. If a wizard or witch were to enter this house without knowing anything about the Horcruxes and to run into several traps, he or she would probably become suspicious. This way, no one will find the Horcrux who doesn't already know it's here. (2)

"Besides, we have no idea how large this basement is. It's entirely possible that there's room for a great many traps behind this door."

"Well," Harry muttered, "_that's_ a cheery thought." He glanced at the others. "Are you ready?" His friends nodded, so he reached out and grabbed the doorknob. It did not turn.

"It's locked," Harry announced.

"Well," Ginny said, "at least we know we're on the right track."

"_Alohamora_!" Ron said. The door remained locked.

"There was a door by the other Horcrux," Harry suggested hesitantly, "that only opened when blood was smeared on it."

Ginny shrugged. "It's worth a try." She took off the pin she was wearing and, before Harry could stop her, she deliberately stabbed herself in the finger. She waited a few seconds for the blood to well up, then wiped her finger off on the door. Nothing happened.

"Could it need more blood?" Luna asked.

"No," Hermione said. "If it required a larger blood sacrifice, there would have been some reaction to Ginny's blood."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "Hermione, are there any other spells for opening locked doors?"

"There are," Hermione said doubtfully, "but Voldemort probably countered them all."

"Well, try them anyway while we think of something else."

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose it couldn't hurt… _teftah_!" she muttered, and a blue light hit the doorknob. Nothing happened. (3)

She began to mutter various spells and beams of multicolored light hit the door one after another, but it did not unlock.

"Can I try?" Ginny asked.

Hermione groaned. "Please do."

"Stand back," Ginny warned. She waved her wand, and the air in front of the door exploded. When the smoke cleared, the door was undamaged. Ginny groaned. "Arrg! Will you _please_ just _open_?" she asked the door, and it did.

Ginny blinked. "What did I just do?"

Hermione gasped. "That's brilliant!" she said.

"Uh, thanks," said Ginny, "but I still don't know how I did it."

Hermione shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She looked at the other's uncomprehending faces and elaborated. "Voldemort knows that only a very powerful witch or wizard could find his Horcrux, and he doesn't respect the power of anyone who would humble himself enough to beg for anything, so he made a door that will only open if you beg."

"Okay…" Ron said, "I guess that is sort of brilliant… can we get this over with?"

"Ron, wait—" Harry said, but Ron had already stepped through the doorway. As soon as he passed the threshold, the doorway began to glow green, to red. Ron shuddered, stopped walking, and lowered his wand.

"Ron?" Harry called. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." Ron said. He sounded confused, but unharmed.

"Do you see the Horcrux?" Harry asked.

"Horcrux?" Ron repeated. "What's a Horcrux?"

* * *

1: Luna told us about twinkletellers back in chapter seven. Ah, Luna.

2: The house does, after all, still officially belong to the Smiths. One of them may decide to come look at it someday, or some kid could enter on a dare…

3: _Teftah_: Hebrew. Literally, "Open!"

R: Yes, cliffies are evil. Yes, they're cruel. They're also a lot of fun. Seriously, I _laughed_ at the end of POTC 2.

POC2: She really did. Of course, she was more laughing at people's reactions to the ending itself, but still…

R: Oh, come on. You should have seen the looks on people's faces! When Barbossa came back, and to it just _ended_?! It was priceless!

POC2: Right…

W: Does anyone else find it amusing that POC2's alter-ego had a different reaction to a movie than she did?

POC2: I don't really know what you're talking about, but okay…

Next: What the cheese do I do to Ron? How can he destroy the Horcrux when he doesn't seem to remember what a Horcrux _is_? And what other traps did Voldemort leave? All this and more, in two weeks.


	22. Hufflepuff's Cup

R: What's this? POC2 posted a chapter on time? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD!!!

POC2: Randomly, shut up and do the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: POC2 is not nearly awesome enough to own Harry Potter.

W: Darn straight.

POC2: Yeah, well, neither are you.

R: (snickers)

* * *

Hufflepuff's Cup

"What's a Horcrux?" Harry repeated incredulously, "What do you mean, 'what's a Horcrux'? What do you think we've been doing at Godric's Hollow all this time?"

"I'm... not sure," Ron said, puzzled. "I mean, we've been working to defeat Voldemort, but I can't seem to remember what we were doing to stop him, or why we're here." He frowned and began to look very worried. "Harry," he said, "I think we should get out of here. There's something here that's making me very nervous."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped softly. "That must be the next obstacle. As soon as Ron stepped through the doorway, it wiped the Horcrux out of his memory. It must also be making him feel nervous so he'll leave."

"Well, that's not so bad," Ginny said. "I mean, it didn't make him forget anything else, and the rest of us remember, so..."

"But it _would_ mean that no single person could retrieve the Horcrux," Hermione countered. "They'd forget why they came before they could. Actually," she added, "that's probably what happened to RAB. So much for Luna's 'three RABs' theory."

"Not really," Luna said idly. "The other two were probably dead by the time the first went after this Horcrux."

"That's a cheerful thought," Ginny muttered. "But you're missing the point: As long as one person stays on this side on the barrier, the rest can go help Ron." She stepped forward to cross the threshold, but suddenly stopped. "It won't let me through," she said, surprised. "It's like there's a wall there. That didn't happen to Ron."

"It's another paradoxical defense," Hermione guessed. "It's impossible to collect the Horcrux without multiple people, but only one person can get through the door."

"So you can't help me?" Ron said. "Okay. Will you at least tell me what I was trying to do?"

"Voldemort tore his soul into seven pieces and hid six of them in objects called Horcruxes," Harry summarized quickly. "Until all the Horcruxes are destroyed, he can't be killed. Four are gone, and one is his snake, which stays near him, so now we're hunting down the last one."

"Okay," Ron said. "How do we destroy the Horcrux once we find it?"

"_Avada Kedavra_," Harry said simply.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, "Nothing's ever easy, is it? Right, what does this Horcrux look like?"

"It's a large, ornate cup," Harry said. "It used to belong to Helga Hufflepuff."

Ron squinted around the room. "I _think_ I see it," he said cautiously.

"Be careful when you pick it up," Harry warned, "there are probably more protective measures."

Ron nodded, raised his wand, and walked out of Harry's line of sight. A few minutes later, Harry smelled something vile.

Ron groaned. "Oh, bloody hell, there's a troll here."

"So knock it out with its own club," Harry called.

"It doesn't have a club," Ron bellowed back.

"Its eyes, Ron," Hermione cried. "Aim for its eyes!"

"Thanks, 'Mione," Ron retorted. "That'd be really helpful if I could see them!"

He backed into Harry's field of view clutching Hufflepuff's cup in one hand and his own wand in the other and staring up. Harry felt the troll's presence before he saw it; the ground shook with every step it took. When he _did_ see the troll, he nearly dropped his wand.

The general shape of the troll's body seemed to be the same as that of the troll he, Ron, and Hermione had faced as first years, but it was much bigger than that troll; bigger even than the troll that had guarded the Sorcerer's Stone, possibly even bigger than Grawp. Its eyes were huge, but they were so far away that Ron may as well have been trying to hex a golden snitch. (1)

"_Impedimenta_!" Ron yelled, pointing his wand up.

The troll didn't react as the jet of light exploded harmlessly against its ear. But something seemed to enrage it; it lumbered towards Ron, bellowing loudly.

It slammed a fist into the ground. Ron dove to the side and narrowly avoided being crushed, but the troll was faster and smarter than Harry would have ever guessed. Before Ron could stand, the troll's other hand shot down and grabbed him. Ron's eyes widened as the troll began to lift him. The cup fell from his hand and clattered to the ground. Both hands grabbed the troll's enormous finger, and Ron began to fight and strain to break the troll's grip, but it was no use. The troll brought Ron up to eye level and looked at him almost curiously.

Ron saw the opportunity and seized it. He lifted his wand and jabbed it at the beast's face with a wordless cry. The jet of light flew into the troll's left eye, with a significantly more serious effect than Ron's first spell. It bellowed on more time before brining both hands up to its face, opening them as it did. Then it stopped moving completely.

Ron's Quidditch training probably saved his life: Only a very stupid person would play a high-contact sport while mounted on a broomstick and not learn how to fall from a height. His body began twisting as soon as the troll released him, and he rolled several times as soon as he hit the ground. He finally stopped, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He stayed there for a few moments; unmoving; just breathing deeply.

"Ron?" Ginny called. "Are you okay?"

Ron groaned, "I don't think anything's broken," he called back, "not even my wand; but that _hurt_!" He stood up stiffly and limped over to where the cup had fallen. He picked it up, grimacing as he did, and turned to face the others. "Okay," he said, "now what?"

"How much of your plan do you remember?" Harry asked nervously. He was not looking forward to attempting to carry out the plan if the person who made it no longer knew what it was.

Ron frowned. "Almost all of it," he said carefully, "I think. It's really weird. I don't feel like there are any holes in my memory, except when I try to figure out what I should know about this." He raised the cup absentmindedly. "The DA and the Order are waiting to attack Voldemort, Right?"

Harry nodded, relieved.

"Er, Ron," Neville said nervously, "how long will that spell of yours keep the troll busy?"

"I have no idea," Ron admitted. "We should probably leave before it wakes up, shouldn't we?" He walked back through the doorway, which stopped glowing. "That feels really bizarre," he muttered.

"Did it give you your memories back?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Ron shook his head.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she muttered. "I should have known it couldn't be that easy."

* * *

"Right," Harry said as they left the house, "so we'll destroy this thing and then call the others. If—"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that," sneered a voice that had haunted Harry's dreams for months.

"You," Harry hissed.

"Yes," Severus Snape said calmly, "me."

The ten Death Eaters behind him raised their wands.

* * *

1: You'd better appreciate all this description, Matt.

Yup, another cliffie. Well, I have to do _something_ to make sure you keep coming back...

Next: Well, this is it, the moment you've all been waiting for! (Or at least some of you have been... maybe...) see you in two weeks for the confrontation between Harry and Snape!


	23. Confrontation

R: And then there came… the fight scene!

POC2: Would you _please_ just do the disclaimer?

Disclaimer: No matter how many words POC2 types, she will never own Harry Potter. Sad, isn't it?

W: I'm positively sobbing.

POC2: Oh, shut up. By the way, I'm sorry that this is late. My life was really hectic, and I thought you would prefer for it to be good and late than bad and on time.

* * *

Confrontation

"I must say," Snape sneered, "I didn't expect you to get this far. I find myself impressed against my will, Potter."

"I'm an impressive person," Harry sneered back.

"Indeed," Snape said dryly. "Unfortunately for you, you will not get any farther than this. Now, give me the cup, and not _all_ of your friends will die today."

"So even if I do hand it over," Harry shot back, "you'll still hunt down and kill any of my friends who manage to escape? Sorry, but even if I did trust you, I don't think that'd convince me."

"So you plan to fight?" Snape asked. "Good. I'll enjoy humiliating you."

"Is it just me," Neville said calmly, "or is this whole situation very familiar?"

"Apparently Death Eaters are short on imagination," Luna noted idly. "I wonder if the kelevs got to them. I mean, they _are_ attracted to stupidity." (1)

One of the Death Eaters snarled and attacked. The others followed almost immediately.

"MOVE," Harry bellowed, and the Skifflemont Six dove to the side just as eleven jets of multi-colored light flew through the doorway and into the house.

A wayward spell collided with the side of the house, knocking free a large portion of the wall, which fell inches from Harry's face. He cursed and rolled to the side, nearly putting himself directly into the path of a falling window.

Finally, Harry rolled to his feet, grasping his wand tightly. He glanced around. Luna and Hermione were standing back-to-back and fighting four Death Eaters. Ron and Neville were doing the same. Ginny was fighting a single Death Eater, rolling and diving to avoid curses, firing spells herself whenever she could. Snape was walking slowly in his direction, but the last Death Eater was running towards him and cackling. Harry recognized her voice, and his blood ran cold.

"Little Baby Potter's all alone," Bellatrix Lestrange laughed. "His friends are all busy. None of them can help him. It looks like it's time for Little Baby Potter to die."

"Not quite yet," Snape drawled. "Don't forget that the Dark Lord still wants to kill Potter personally.

The woman seemed to consider that for a moment. "But there are so many fun things I can do that will leave him alive," she said. "I can still play with Potter before giving him up."

"I'm afraid not," Snape replied. "You can be somewhat… overenthusiastic. I don't think the Dark Lord would appreciate any… accidents."

"But Severus—"

"Go play with Longbottom, Bellatrix. I'll deal with Potter."

Lastrange cackled again before turning and running toward Neville. Snape began to circle Harry, looking for an opening. Harry reacted instantly, matching him step for step.

"I must say," Snape began softly, "I've been looking forward to this for a very, very long time."

"I'm not exactly complaining about the chance to fight you, either," Harry admitted. Then he raised his wand in one smooth motion and shouted, "_stupefy_!"

Snape waved his wand almost lazily, and Harry's spell fizzled out of existence. "Really, Potter," he said acidly, as though Harry was a student who had failed a pop quiz, "have you practiced non-verbal spells at _all_ since I stopped teach you?"

Harry growled, angry at himself as well as Snape. He _hadn't_ practiced non-verbal spells since he'd left Hogwarts; he hadn't had time.

"Come now, Potter," Snape mocked, "I'm only trying to help you. How do you ever expect to win a duel it you continues announcing your every move to your opponent?"

_Sectumsempra,_ Harry though, so furious that he felt he would actually enjoy watching Snape bleed to death.

But again, Snape was faster. "I see you haven't practiced Occlumency either," he remarked as he deflected Harry's spell, "and you shouldn't use spells unless you know how they are intended to work." He flicked his wand.

Harry dove to the side and felt something fly past him, cutting his arm slightly. He scowled and cursed under his breath.

"Language, Potter," Snape said silkily.

Harry swore at him.

In the background, he could hear curses and hexes being screamed and spells flying through the air. Then, louder than anything else, he heard Ron's voice screaming, "GINNY!"

Harry spun around and froze in horror. Ginny had been thrown to the ground, and her wand was lying beyond her grasp. One of the Death Eaters who had been fighting Ron and Neville had turned and fired a spell at her. There was no way she could possibly move fast enough to dodge the jet of green light.

But Ron could. Even as he screamed his sister's name, he threw Hufflepuff's cup as hard as he could directly into the spell's path. When the two collided, the cup screamed, snapped in two, and fell to the ground.

Harry stared at the cup as he slowly realized exactly what had just happened. Someone had shot _Avada Kedavra_ at Ginny. She would be dead now if not for Ron. He had thrown the Horcrux into the spell. The Horcrux had been destroyed.

The Death Eaters may not have realized exactly what the cup had been, but they knew that Voldemort had wanted it, and they could tell that something extreme had just happened. Everyone seemed to be frozen, staring at the broken artifact.

But not everyone was.

Harry's legs suddenly refused to hold his weight. His knees buckled, he collapsed to the ground, and he found that he could not move his legs. He realized immediately that he would not be able to fight from his current position, so he slipped his wand into his sleeve and pulled out a fake wand instead, vowing silently as he did to respect Ron's plans from now on. He finished the action just in time, as his arms also stopped obeying him.

Screams and curses from his friends told him that they had also been incapacitated.

"Take their wands," Snape sneered, "and pile them over there." Harry felt someone grab the fake wand and heard the clatter as it was tossed carelessly aside. He longed to glance to the side and check whether the others had managed to switch their real wands for the fake ones, but he didn't want to draw the Death Eater's attention to the fake wands if they had, so he could only hope.

Two Death Eaters grabbed his arms and lifted him so that he was facing Snape. Harry thought he saw Snape's eyes flicker over to the pile of wands, but Harry knew that the wand that had been taken from him, at least, had been fake; and Snape did not react to that; so he must have imagined it.

"Well, Potter," Snape said softly, "it seems that this is the end. You seem to have made quite a bit of progress, but it was not enough. Did you honestly think that you could ever be more than a minor annoyance to the Dark Lord?

"Arrogance. Pure arrogance. But then, that always has been your weakness.

"Like father, like son, I suppose."

Something inside of Harry snapped. He knew that he should have been worried about what Snape would do to him and his friends. He should have been upset that he had failed in his mission, for how could he stop Voldemort now? He should have been furious with Snape for everything that the traitor had done and for insulting him and his father _again_. He should have been desperately looking for a chance to fight against his captors and praying that his friends would be able to help him. He should have felt many things, but he only felt annoyed.

"Merlin's beard," he said before he could think about the words that were about to come out of his mouth, "will you just shut up about my dad? Fine, so he was a bullying git in school. I know. I saw him. But it happened _twenty years ago_. My father changed. He's also been dead for the past sixteen years, in case you haven't noticed.

"And you know what? that's not even the point.

"If you want to hold a grudge against my father and his friends for the rest of your life, go right ahead. You want to let everything you do be dictated by a few bullying schoolboys? Have a good time. But stop. Blaming. Me.

"I'm _not_ my dad. Yes, I look like him. Yes, I inherited his Quidditch talent. But I am _not_ him and I am _not_ his clone.

"Have you _ever_ seen me pick on _anyone_? Have you ever watched me to see if I was anything like my dad, or did you just assume that I was?

"You know what's ironic? Your precious Malfoy is more like my dad than I've ever been."(2). He stopped, breathing hard, and suddenly realized exactly how stupid it had been to say that while at Snape's mercy. He felt his face heating up, and he heard at least one of the Death Eaters snickering behind him.

There was a brief flash of emotion across Snape's face—respect? No, it couldn't have been—but it was gone so fast that Harry was sure he must have imagined it. Then the potions master raised one eyebrow.

"Absolutely inspiring," he drawled softly. "If my actions truly were dictated by what your father and his idiotic friends did in school, I might actually be persuaded to change. Unfortunatly for you..." He shrugged and raised his wand. "Now," he continued, almost to himself, "let's see exactly what you've been up to. You never did learn to shield your mind."

* * *

1: Kelev is the Hebrew word for dog. I have completely run out of names for Luna's creatures.

W: Has anybody else noticed that when POC2 runs out of ideas, she tends to revert to Hebrew?

POC2: That may have something to do with the fact that Hebrew is the only language I _know_ besides English, but…

2: Anybody else notice this? In book 1, Dumbledore compares James and Snape to Harry and Malfoy. Harry assumes he is like his father and Malfoy is like Snape but, knowing what we now know, it was probably the other way around. Anyhoo, I'm not sure how important it is for Snape to hear this, but Harry definitely needs to say it.

POC2: I'd like to say a quick word about reviews: I love them, and I would love to reply to them. Unfortunately, I have recently received a number of unsigned reviews with no e-mail address attached. Remember, if you want a reply, you _must_ (a) sign in, or (b) leave an e-mail address, or I simply have no way to contact you.

Next: Dang, Harry really should have practiced his Occlumency, shouldn't he? Well, the story's not over yet, so he'll probably manage to get out of this one alive…

See you in two weeks to look into some: Memories.


	24. Memories

POC2: I really am sorry that this has taken so long, but I'm a Junior in three AP classes, third quarter just ended, and AP tests are right after break.

R: In other words, POC2 probably isn't going to be very good at being on time in the near future.

POC2: Yeah… Sorry about that… Hopefully the chapters will be good enough to make up for that.

Disclaimer: 24 chapters, 24 disclaimers… seriously, how many ways are there to say that POC2 doesn't own Harry Potter?

W: Why don't you just do one at the beginning? It's not like anyone's going to skip to the 24th chapter, see that there isn't a disclaimer, and sue you! This whole site is a disclaimer! Seriously!

R: Hey! That's a good idea.

POC2: Yeah, but you can't do 24 disclaimers and then just stop. It doesn't work.

* * *

Memories

Harry glared at Snape, but inside he was despairing.

He _had_ never learned Occlumency, and now Snape would be able to get into his head and see everything that the Skifflemont Six had done. Then he would tell Voldemort that they had destroyed the Horcruxes, and Voldemort would take additional precautions… they would lose the element of surprise, and without it, how could they hope to win?

Then, with a start, Harry realized that there had been one time that he had been able to keep Snape out, to literally shield his mind. So as Snape raised his wand and muttered, "_Ligilimens_," Harry pulled his own wand out of his sleeve and screamed "_Proteago_!"

He could have sworn that Snape looked almost proud, and then he was falling.

* * *

He was a small child huddling in a corner. (1) A tall, dark-haired man and a cringing woman were in the middle of the room, arguing.

"So now you come crawling back?" the man sneered. "Now that you need us?"

"Please," the woman begged, "please, I have nowhere else to go."

"You married a Muggle, Eileen," the man said coldly. "Your son is a half-blood. We should have disowned you immediately. You're lucky our father is soft. We owe you nothing."

"Then do it for Severus if you won't do it for me," Eileen pleaded. "He has no father anymore. At least let him have an uncle."

Her brother considered the request. "Very well," he said finally, "but I will raise him as I choose to. You will have no say in the matter."

"Thank you," Eileen said in a broken voice. "Thank you so much."

* * *

He was still a child, though not quite as small. Eileen's brother was holding him by both shoulders with a grip so tight it was painful.

"You are already a disgrace to our family because of your blood," the older man snarled, "enough so that I would be ashamed to send you to the noble school of Durmstrang. Shame us further while you are at Hogwarts, and you will not like the consequences."

He nodded furiously. "Of course, Uncle," he said. "I will make you proud, sir."

His uncle snorted. "I am not sure that is possible," he said, "but you _will_ try. I will know if you do not."

--

He was sitting in front of the entire school with the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Impressive," the Hat was saying, "very impressive. I haven't seen a mind like yours in quite some time. There's defiantly intelligence in here; a great deal of it. Dedication as well. And what an urge to prove yourself!

"Yes, you have the potential to go very far. The question is, which House will help you go the farthest?

"Not Gryffindor, certainly. Not that you are lacking in courage, but you would be miserable in that house.

"Hufflepuff? No. You do have the potential for great loyalty, but you could not work with that reputation.

"Slytherin? Well, Slytherin _would_ teach you what you need to know in order to succeed in life, but then, you are a half-blood. There hasn't been a half-blood in Slytherin for more than 20 years, and he was only accepted because of his mother's impressive family. (2) You, however… your housemates would never accept you. You'd be miserable in Slytherin.

"Now, Ravenclaw—"

_Wait_, he thought desperately, _wait, I _want_ to be in Slytherin._

"Your house should reflect who you are," the Hat chided gently, "not who your uncle wants you to be."

_I don't care,_ he insisted. _I want to be in Slytherin._

"Very well," the Hat conceded, and it called, "SLYTHERIN," to the entire school.

He pulled the Hat off, placed it on the stool, and went to join his new housemates. He noticed that the applause was softer for him than it had been for many of the other first years, but he tried not to let it bother him.

He was a Slytherin. His uncle would be proud.

He found a seat on a bench between a second year and a fifth year.

"So," the fifth year said, "Snape, was it? I don't think I'm familiar with that family. You _are_ a pureblood, aren't you?"

"I'm a half-blood," he replied self-consciously. "My mother's a Prince."

"Oh," the fifth year muttered, and she turned back to talk with her friends.

* * *

He was older now, in his early teens. He sat at a table in the dungeons, hunched over his potions ingredients. His partner, a girl with vivid red hair and bright green eyes, was frowning and flipping through her textbook.

"There's nothing in here about dried flobberworms," she pointed out.

"I know," he replied calmly, but he continued chopping the worms.

His partner sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're going to add them anyway, aren't you?"

"Yes, Lily," he said without looking up. "I am." He finished dicing the flobberworms and poured them into the cauldron. The liquid hissed and bubble for around a minute before becoming exactly the shade of orange it was supposed to be.

Lily stared at the potion for a few moments before shaking her head. "Severus," she said plaintively, "why are you in this class?"

He looked up for the first time, horrified. "Please tell me you're not serious," he said. "If I didn't have potions, I'd go mad."

Lily laughed. "I see your point," she admitted, "and I guess it would be weird to put you in a sixth year class or something, but couldn't you get—I don't know—private tutoring, maybe? Most fourteen-year-olds don't know more about potions than the textbook."

He smirked. "Lily," he said, "have you ever seen _any_ student in this school receive private tutoring for _any_ reason?"

Lily laughed. "I see your point," she admitted, "but I still think this is a bit silly. There's no one in this class who can hope to compare to you, is there?"

He shrugged. "You come closer than anyone else," he said, and he returned to his potion. (3)

* * *

It was a year or so later, and his lab partner, now an attractive young lady, was storming away from him.

"Lily," he called as he raced down the hallway after her, "Lily, wait! Lily, I didn't mean it!"

She whirled furiously to face him, and he could see the tears in her eyes. "Didn't mean what?" she snapped. "That you don't want my help? Or that I'm a worthless Mudblood?"

"Lily, _please_," he begged, "I didn't—I mean, I just—I was upset, and I—I'm trying to apologize."

"I don't _care_ how upset you were," Lily said coldly, "you called me a Mudblood. I thought you were above that."

"Lily," he said desperately, "you know I don't think of you that way."

"But what about the other muggle-borns?" she challenged. "What about Alice Gordon? Is _she_ a worthless Mudblood?" He didn't answer. "I thought so," she muttered, and the tears began to spill out of her eyes and flow down her face. "You know, I've been defending you for _five years_. The other Gryffindors kept asking me how I could be friends with you. They would say that you were just as cruel and prejudiced as the other Slytherins, but I told them they were wrong. I told them they didn't know you. Well, it looks like _I_ was wrong." She turned and began to walk away. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back. "Oh, and Severus?" she said. "Find a new partner for Potions."

* * *

Early the next year, he sat in potions class next to a Slytherin girl with pale blond hair who was staring at the board in utter bafflement.

"Why do we have to stir three times clockwise if we're going to stir _five_ times _counterclockwise_ three steps later?" she wondered. "Couldn't we just stir twice counterclockwise and skip the clockwise stirring completely?"

He glanced at Lily, who was very deliberately not looking at him as she measured her potions ingredients, and groaned. (4)

* * *

He sat alone in the Slytherin common room; reading. One of his yearmates approached him.

"Hey Sev," the boy called, "have you finished the potions homework?"

He ignored the boy and continued reading.

The boy laughed awkwardly. "Of course you've finished," he said, "you're _you_. Hey, listen, I can't seem to figure out one of the questions. Could you give me a hand?"

Again, no response.

The boy waited a few moments before shrugging. "On a totally different note, my father's on the board at St. Mungo's, and he told me they have a summer internship available for a dedicated potions student. He asked me to suggest a few people…"

He put his book down and looked up. "What exactly did you have trouble with?"

* * *

He sat on the Hogwarts Express, alone in a compartment.

The door slid open, and a tall boy with pale blond hair and a haughty expression walked in. "It's strange to think we're leaving that place for the last time, isn't it?" he said idly.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said coldly. "What could possibly be so important that you would lower yourself to talk to a half-blood?"

Malfoy waved his wand. The door to the compartment slid closed. "I have a proposition for you. I'm sure you have heard of the Dark Lord, and I presume that you also know that he is recruiting—"

"I'm not interested," Harry cut him off.

"You may want to reconsider," Malfoy told him. "The Dark Lord has a great deal to offer."

Harry laughed darkly. "I'm a half-blood, he pointed out. I have no interest in ridding the world of Mudbloods."

"Do you honestly think _that_ is the true goal of the Dark Lord?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

"You call yourself _Death Eaters_," Harry pointed out. "Do you expect me to believe that your primary goal isn't to kill anyone you dislike?"

"Our primary goal," Malfoy replied, "is power. The name means nothing. It is simply a tool to attract the more brutish citizens of the wizarding world to our ranks. Even they have their uses. But you… your intelligence and talent will take you very far in the Dark Lord's world, even if your lineage is not… ideal."

"Perhaps," Harry conceded, "but you have still not given me a good reason to join. After all, there is plenty of demand for a potions master of my caliber in the wizarding world, even outside of the Dark Lord's employ."

"St. Mungo's did not accept your job application," Malfoy said calmly.

Harry froze. "What do you know about that?" he asked warily.

"It's quite simple," Malfoy said smoothly. "You're a Slytherin. As such, anyone who has been sorted into any of the other Houses at Hogwarts will automatically assume that you have joined the Dark Lord and are evil. And, since you do not have enough money to convince them otherwise…"

"So what you are saying," Harry summarized, his eyes narrowed, "I will be forced to deal with the negative consequences of joining the Death Eaters even if I choose not to, so I may as well enjoy the perks?"

"No one else will ever accept you," Malfoy told him, his voice dripping with false sympathy.

Harry considered that for a moment. "If I do choose to join the Dark Lord," he said finally, "how would I go about doing so?" (5)

* * *

He knelt in front of a tall, long fingered, oddly reptilian wizard.

He slowly vowed to obey the wizard in all matters, and he felt as though his arm was on fire.

* * *

And then the memories began to flash by, blurring together.

People were being cursed, tortured, murdered. Occasionally, one of the black-robed figures hesitated or refused to participate, and he or she replaced the victim.

He was too far in. he could not escape. He had no where to go.

* * *

He knelt once more before his master. Voldemort was more snake-like that he had been in the last memory, but still more human than when he was reborn in Harry's fourth year.

"You are to go to Dumbledore," Voldemort ordered, "and apply for a teaching position. You will claim that you have decided to leave my service and that Hogwarts is the only place where you feel safe. Then you will report to me on his action."

--

He stood with his ear to a door, listening to the conversation in the next room.

The woman's voice, normally ridiculously flighty and ethereal, suddenly became harsh and scratchy as she began to prophesize:

"_THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE TWICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES… AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE A POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NIETHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"_

He stood in silence, shocked by what he had just heard. Suddenly he heard footsteps. He looked up. The barkeep was standing behind him, an expression of shock and elation on his face.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered. "When I tell the Dark Lord—"

"No!" Harry gasped. "I will tell the Dark Lord myself," he added quickly at the other's expression. "It was my mission, so it is my right."

"Yours?" the barkeep snarled. "You always take the best jobs for yourself. Just because you are one of the Dark Lord's favorites for some inexplicable reason—"

"Can I help it that the Dark Lord has good taste?" Harry asked coolly.

With a cry of pure rage, the barkeep threw himself at Harry, too infuriated to even pull out his wand. Harry fought desperately to keep the other man's claw-like fingers away from his face.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and he found himself staring into Albus Dumbledore's ice-cold eyes. He stammered an excuse, but he could tell that the older man did not believe a word he was saying.

* * *

1: So, in the books, whenever we're in Harry's memories (i.e. Occlumency lessons) he is his past self. When it's someone else's memories, Harry is usually watching the scene. But, when Harry is seeing what Voldemort is doing due to their connection, he sees things through Voldemort's eyes. Thus, I am taking a little bit of creative license and letting Harry see Snape's memories through the younger Snape's eyes.

2: The way I see it, the Hat takes into account the way each student would interact with the other students in each house, which explains why you almost never see half-bloods in Slytherin: their housemates would make their time at Hogwarts miserable. Voldemort got into Slytherin because he was descended from Salazar Slytherin himself and would be able to use that to make people forget that his father was a muggle. Harry would have been sorted into Slytherin because he's Harry-freaking-Potter, and nobody cares if he's a half-blood or not.

3: Okay. I, personally, am not a fan of Snape/Lily, one-sided or not. I like the idea of a Snape/Lily friendship, but not more. However, I do recognize it as a legitimate pairing. Thus, there's nothing here that's explicitly Snape/Lily, and I'm not likely to write anything that is, but you can defiantly find it if you're looking.

4: Actually, it's not a horrible question, though she probably should have asked it before joining the NEWT level class. Not the part about one stir clockwise and one stir counterclockwise adding to zero; it doesn't take a genius to realize that that doesn't work; but why does it matter which way you stir?

I'm guessing the answer basically boils down to "It's magic. It's not supposed to make sense."

5: Just throwing this out there, but does anyone else think that the four-house system is a horrible way to work? I mean, come on. As soon as the students are sorted, they're forced into a stereotype that follows them for the rest of their lives.

I was actually planning to put all of the memories into one chapter but, when I started actually writing the chapter, I realized that there's enough to write an entire novel-length fic about Snape's past and still leave a lot out. I'm going to try to do the memories as two chapters, and they'll probably be the longest chapters in this fic.


	25. AN: Apology and Explination

Hi. Protector of Canon2 here.

I recently realized just how long it's been since I updated anything, and how unfair that is to every one of my reviewers. I figure I owe you an explanation, so here goes: I'm a senior in high school. Next year, I'll be studying in a seminary in Israel, and the year after that, I'll be in college.

That means that at the end of the year, everything about my life—the amount of free time I have, the amount of responsibility I have, what I do with my time, even what country I live in—will change.

The year after that, everything will change again.

Then things'll remain relatively stable for around four years (three if I get really lucky and whatever college I end up going to accepts my AP credits in lieu of Freshman year) before everything changes _again_.

In the meantime, I have to apply to college, apply to seminary, decide where I want to go, look into some scholarship opportunities, keep up with my schoolwork, and stay relatively sane. I also would really like to work on some of my original fiction, and I want to send some of the stuff I've already written to magazines so that I might be able to (cross your fingers) get published.

Long story short (even though I've just told the long version…), I have neither the time nor the energy to work on my fanfics with anything resembling regularity.

So starting now, and lasting probably until mid-2011(when my life starts to stabilize) I'm officially going on hiatus.

I'll try to finish my Harry Potter story during second semester when applications will all be in and my schoolwork will lighten up.

I'm having a bit of writers block on my Teen Titans story in addition to the other issues, so don't get your hopes up if you're reading that. (Sorry.)

There's a 9-10 chapter Sky High fic that's been sitting in my notebook, written out completely, for a while, so if I ever have time, but not creative energy, I'll type that up and post it.

I'll also continue posting one-shots, and maybe two-shots, when I get required, because those don't require me to commit to anything.

But I won't post regularly, and I won't start any new stories.

So that's when where we stand, and I apologize again for the wait.

Thank you all for your patience and your understanding.

-Protector of Canon2


	26. Another AN: Please Read

So, now that I finally have free time, (yay end of school!) I've been doing a lot of thinking. And one of the things I've been thinking about is this story.

And I've realized that it's not really that good.

I'm not going to go so far as to say that it sucks, because it doesn't, but the fact of the matter is that I made a lot of mistakes. I introduced the concept of "good Slytherins," but I never went anywhere with them. I brought Sirius back to life, but never used him. I made a big deal about gathering the DA, but I never did anything with them. In short, I got caught up with my main plot and forgot to work on all of my subplots.

There are other things I feel could be better, but I'm not going to bore you by listing all of them.

You see, I started writing the story back in 2006. I was a high school freshman then. Now I'm a high school graduate.

I have grown exponentially as a writer since then, and first of all I have to thank all of you who have reviewed this story, especially those of you who have been with me from the beginning, like Matt the Batman Fan, Suliac Griffin, LordStrongpaw, Buffalo1fromSalem, and probably some other people whom I've forgotten to mention. You guys are a huge part of the reason I have grown so much.

But now I'm facing a bit of a dilemma. Because the truth is that I'm not satisfied with this story as is. I can't just continue it; I would have to go back and re-write basically the entire thing, and I simply don't have the time to devote to it.

I have too many other stories I want to work on, including an original novel which I hope to start sending to publishers within the next year or to. Maybe I'll get back to it after I finish my current to-do list, but more likely I'll have a new list by then.

So, this story will probably either sit, unchanged, forever, or I'll take it down.

And while I was agonizing over this decision, I realized that it isn't really mine to make.

It's yours.

I'm going to put a poll up on my homepage. Let me know what you think, and we'll go from there.


End file.
